Sometimes I think about Urianger's role in and feelings on the Thancred-Ryne dynamic and I think watching it kills him a bit inside. For several reasons.
Like, to begin with there's the guilt he's been carrying with him since he ushered Minfilia to the first, how he effectively killed the person Thancred cared about the most in the world and who's "death" ended up causing Ryne's entire Situation. He looks at what's happening between them and can only think "I caused this" even though that's not really true. No one person is responsible for this outcome, it's a culmination of several circumstances and the consequences of them. Logically, Urianger knows this. But it doesn't matter, because his guilt is overpowering his logic.
And also, like. What Thancred is doing here, the way he's knowingly letting Ryne be and stay hurt because he literally cannot bring himself to tell her his feelings, is the exact same mistake Urianger made with Moenbryda. Of course, the circumstances are vastly different, and the potential consequences to Thancred telling Ryne the wrong things or her misinterperating it is far greater (being a matter of literal life or death), it's still the same sort of paralysis they are trapped in.
And he knows it. He sees it. But he can't say or do anything about it, he doesn't have the right to. He acknowledges the mistake, but he hasn't really improved upon it yet. He still doesn't voice his thoughts and feelings as he should. He's also non-confrontational by nature, he doesn't argue or try to change peoples minds, he probably doesn't think he has any place to.
So, he tries to help in what little ways he can. Because he doesn't want it to become Monebryda again, he doesn't want to know he stole not one but two people from Thancred. So he does what he can. He tells Ryne little tidbits about Thancred, things that help her understand him but are safe to share. Nothing too deep, nothing too personal. Just small things, things that are purely factual, because he can't afford to give her a false image of who Thancred is. He teacher her fun and interesting things, because Thancred isn't in the mindset to provide her with non-essential skills.
I like to think Urianger has brought it up with Thancred at least once, during one of his stays. But nothing would've come of it. Not really. Unlike Y'shtola, Urianger isn't pushy, he'll bring it up once or twice and when he sees this won't go anywhere, he gives up. He wants to help, but he knows that persistance only does do much, and he is not the person who has the resiliance needed to push and push until Thancred finally budges (because he won't budge, it won't help anything but to sour things further by adding aditional stress to an already strained dynamic).
And like. Urianger gets it. He gets it because he's been the same way- not saying what he should to someone he loves more than anything else because she was meant to figure her life out herself, and 'steering' her in any direction by telling her his feelings (regardless of if the 'steering' is intention or not) will go against that. He gets it. He gets it and it's all the more painful for it. He knows it can't just be fixed by acknowledging it or with encouragement, something needs to happen to break the stasis.
I think this is probably why he stayed behind while they went off to Nabaath Areng. This is the very last chance they have to say what they want to, and he can't afford to be the anchor anymore. This is about them, not him, he can't let their resolution be buffed by his presence, so he stays behind. Which was probably for the best. Ryne got nervous when Urianger said he's staying behind, probably not too excited about being alone with Thancred (well, not alone, but WoL doesn't count) so soon after she had ran away crying. But she needs to be nervous. For anything positive to come out of this Thancred and Ryne both can't afford to be too relaxed. As sad as it is, the stress is necessary for anything to happen. He knows it. Does he like it? Absolutely not, but nor does he like his other plots. At least no one dies this time if it goes right.
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sometimes that's just the way that it goes
or, joel smallishbeans joins the tokyo lift (an mcyt blaseball au fic)
the thing about joel is- well, there's a lot of things about joel, but the most relevant thing, is that he never really got in to blaseball.
he'd gone to few of grian and jimmy's games in college, been brought to an equal number of pearl's minor league games, and mostly paid attention in conversation about it after his entire friend group became obsessed with the splort seemingly overnight.
but then he'd moved out to tokyo after college, where the blaseball scene had yet to expand to a proper minor league; let alone a major league. he got a non-splorts related job. he had non-splorts related hobbies. and he was suddenly in a timezone 17 hours ahead from all his friends who cared about these things.
so maybe he managed to forget basically all the knowledge he had about the game. sue him.
by the time the ILB expanded to tokyo with the lift, joel was certainly more knowledgeable on the splort than he'd ever been. he had basically the entire league's schedule in his calendar at all times, he voted in the elections, he kept a close eye on weather forecasts across the globe. a small side effect of most of your friends playing a splort that started killing people 10 years ago.
but here's the thing- despite joel's expansive knowledge of what's happening the ILB on any given day, despite his stockpile of votes, despite his constant presence as someone's plus one at any given ILB event or party-
despite all of that...
joel doesn't really know how to play.
which is a problem, when, on a whim that he now knows was definitely some divine intervention at play, he decides to actually go to one of his friend's games on a day they happen to be playing in tokyo. and it becomes more of a problem when an umpire goes rogue, and in the blink of an eye, joel finds himself vaulting a railing and picking up a bat that, until two minutes ago, belonged to a toyko lift player.
and now belongs to a new tokyo lift player.
him.
shit.
and that is how joel finds himself here, on a stool in stress and false's bathroom, staring at his actively-being-dyed hair in the mirror and considering.
he didn't know stress and false very well before joining the lift. he'd met them, of course, at the aforementioned parties and events he'd been brought to, but they weren't close by any means. but seeing as they were the only members of his new team he'd been properly introduced to prior to becoming their coworker, he found himself following them around like a lost puppy from day one. they seemed mostly endeared by this, so far, which joel was taking as an embarrassing but necessary fact of his new career.
the "sitting in their bathroom getting his hair dyed" part of his current situation had come about a few days prior, when the wild card teams were announced and the lift had officially made their first ever post season. joel's remark that they should do something for the occasion had spiraled into stress lending him her bathroom and hair dye to dye the streak in his hair pink in celebration.
by the time they actually got around to it, the lift had been knocked out of the post season by the wild wings in a two game sweep, but joel hadn't backed out, so here they were.
stress was mixing the pink dye while joel got the green bleached out of his hair, humming along to a song joel wasn't really listening to. the bathroom isn't large enough to fit false as well, with joel on a stool, so she's hovering outside doing... something. joel's kinda lost track of her exact movements due to his aforementioned considering.
joel hasn't actually played a lot with the lift, yet. he'd joined the team in the last 20 days or so of the season, so they've gotten a good 20 games worth of a look at his... let's say, skill, and they've all presumably figured out that he's not very good. no one's said anything, but that doesn't mean they haven't been thinking it. but it's also possible they haven't been thinking it, and if joel brings it up right now, then they'll all realize that he's terrible. but also, joel knows he needs to fix this problem, because he's seen what happens to bad players.
so he's sucking it up.
"stress, can i admit something to you?" joel says, as confident and nonchalant as he can manage. it's not very nonchalant.
"hm?" stress says, looking up from where she's fidgeting about. "sure, i don't see why not."
joel takes a deep breath before he continues. "now, i don't know if any of you have noticed this yet, but... i don't really know how to play blaseball."
this is when false chooses to poke her head in from whatever she'd been doing to comment. "sorry, repeat yourself?"
"well, despite the fact that all of my friends have played this game for years, i haven't been paying much attention to how it actually works. so i don't think i actually know how to play, which wasn't a problem for me until about three weeks ago. and now it's a very big problem."
"oh," false says, looking him up and down. joel tries not to feel scrutinized. "i wouldn't have guessed that from your stats, but yeah, in hindsight, that makes sense."
"you looked at my stats?" joel sputters.
"yeah is that not-" false looks at stress, desperation clear on her face. "do people not usually do that?"
"i mean, i don't, but i don't know what all you other geezers are up to."
joel has yet to move on from the stats thing. "i haven't even looked at my stats. what- are they good? actually, no i don't want to know. or, if they're bad, i don't want to know. if they're good you can tell me."
false laughs. "you're fine, overall. not a good pitcher, but that's not your problem. everything else is pretty average, but your batting is your best stat, and it's pretty up there. not really indicative of someone who doesn't know how to play."
"oh!" joel thinks about this. he doesn't think he's been a particularly special batter thus far, but he's not objecting to whoever's quantifying his skill saying he's good. not at all. "ok, well, i kinda know how to play. i think. i know enough that i've been able to be passable, but i want to be good next season."
"are you asking us to coach you?" stress says as she starts the tap to wash the bleach out of joel's hair.
"uh, if you want to, yeah. you're both good, i think."
false, who is now leaning in the doorway instead of poking her head in, laughs again. "yeah, i'd say we're alright." from her tone, joel suspects they're actually very good, and he once again has no idea what he's talking about.
"but we'd love to!" stress says, lightly pushing joel to put his head into the sink. her next words are slightly drowned out by the running water. "obviously the lift practice in the off season already, but we could spend a bit of time doing one on one stuff with you. show you the ropes, you know?"
joel, still in the sink, answers with a thumbs up. as he sits back up and takes the towel stress offers him, he sees false leave the doorway and go back to whatever she was doing, decision seemingly reached.
joel dries off his hair and stress moves in with the pink dye and a dye brush, humming along to another song he doesn't know. he definitely doesn't need her help dying his hair- he's been doing it on his own for years now. but she'd offered the dye she already had so he didn't have to buy a new color, and apparently that offer came along with her doing most of the work as well.
and for once in his life, joel is going to take the help without a fuss.
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