starhuevalley | (no subject)

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[ it's been two weeks.

not a long time at all, in the grand scheme of things. even less, with all the tasks required to clean up their land and make enough money to buy what they need keeping them busy. but— long enough to buy and gather seeds for a few of the flowers they've needed, and to purchase and plant a young cherry tree. long enough to get to know this little patch of forest, and more importantly make sure it knew them. long enough to put together all the pieces to grow just a little patch of "home."

now— Lilith stands in front of a clearing on the edge of her farm bordering the forest, her snake skull mask firmly in place but the jaw left to gape open. the cherry sapling sits in the middle of the meadow, surrounded by the flower seedlings that have already put down roots and started growing in earnest. one last time, she looks over their work, and then slowly exhales. ]

—"By my authority."

[ it's only a quiet, wry mutter—like a joke she can't help but make, even if only to herself—but even so, the words echo clearly in any watching bystanders' ears for the hushed moment before the patch of greenery explodes into growth, and bursts into a veritable riot of many-colored blooms. ]

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[from wandering in one forest, to wandering in another.

he's pretty sure it's a different forest, anyway. things have been... unclear... for a while, but this one seems lighter, thinner, seems to have different trees. definitely doesn't have kudzu. he became very familiar with kudzu very quickly, and there's none here; if he's sure of nothing else, he's sure of that.

is this home? he'd wanted so much to go home - wherever a place called "home" was. but - no, no, he's pretty sure the bit where he was freed from the spill and crossed over with the other shades was real. almost certain. he hadn't had enough mind left in the spill to dream or hallucinate with, so it was almost certainly a real thing that had happened.

so. right. he's in another forest. a living forest. he's alive. he has his rabbit, the one given to him by the girl from Larkspur. he remembers his time in the other forest. he remembers his life. he remembers all of his names. this isn't home, but maybe someday it could be.

these are real things. he thinks. he'll believe it. he has to believe it, because if he doesn't then he might as well just lie down now and die again - and one of the few things he's sure of is that he finally, finally doesn't want to do that.

he'll believe it's all real, until he has some reason to believe it's not.

... so when he emerges unexpectedly into a meadow - too lost in his own thoughts to notice where he was walking - that is bursting with the team flowers, all in their correct colors, and sees the girl from Larkspur standing there with her snake-skull Arbiter, he stops still as death, staring, unable to make sense of it.

this can't be real.

can it?]

Edited 2018-06-23 04:39 (UTC)

[ despite the fact that he literally wandered right into her line of sight, it takes an embarrassingly long moment to register his presence. asserting her will over the land hadn't worn them out, exactly— but it had taken far more effort than the Arbiter was used to, and between that and Lilith's overwhelming relief at seeing the team flowers again there's no room for much thought.

not for long, though. ]

You're—

[ she would honestly be more ashamed about having never gotten his name if she weren't busy being completely spooked she apparently just summoned him out of the literal woodwork?! ]

Is this real?

[he's clinging to the stuffed rabbit, as if anchoring himself with it. the rabbit is real, he's almost completely sure the rabbit is real - he can just barely feel the pressure of it in his arms as he squeezes, and he glances down just to make sure he's not imagining it. the rabbit is real.

if the rabbit is real, then could this be?]

[ she follows his glance down and— it's a little like being punched in the stomach. he still has her gift. only Hell knows what he's been through since she last saw him, and despite that... he still has it. it still matters to him.

her reply as she reaches up to push the snake skull back is rough-voiced, almost wobbly ]

...This is real. Not a game, nor a dream.

[of course it matters - it was the first gift he could remember being given, back in the forest. even now, looking back on his life, it's the only gift anyone's given him just for the sake of kindness.

(Aoba had given him so much, kindness and stubbornness and inconvenient compassion and the hope that maybe the world wasn't such an unkind place - and he treasures those things too, now that he remembers them, but he cannot hold them in his arms.)

there isn't much change in his expression, only a faint, suspicious shine in his eyes before he stumbles forward to bump against her and press his face into her shoulder.]

[ she's still lagging, overwhelmed and caught off-guard— so it's Samael who gives her the nudge of lifting her arms into place as he leans into them, and provides the quiet reassurance that she won't let Lilith hold on too hard so that she can take it from there. it's awkward, still, but the snake skull snaps shut and out of the way with a softly musical clunk as she tucks him under her chin. ]

...It's all right. You're out— it's going to be all right.

[ the words feel almost rusty on her tongue. "it's going to be all right"— she hasn't said anything like that for the entirety of her time in the forest. ]

[he breathes raggedly into her collarbone, as if he doesn't actually know how to cry. the soft mass of the stuffed rabbit provides a gentle pressure between them. handy, for these two touch-impaired former dead.]

... I'm out.

[his voice is constricted and small, his words barely whispers.]

I'm out...

[ she sighs a noise somewhere between agreement and a low, soothing hum, tentatively bringing one hand up to rest on the back of his head. it's too intimate, maybe, but for all that he seems to be somewhere around the age she feels, he... well. seems to be around the age she feels. younger than he looks. ]

Mm. You're alive.

[ "worthy," she thinks— one of them thinks, anyway. probably Samael, but Lilith is the one to gently discard it all the same. worthy or unworthy, redeemed or irredeemable... those aren't words she would want to hear in his position.

they don't mean anything here, anyway. ]

[the hand on the back of his head just reminds him of Aoba, and he makes a little choked sound, pressing closer.

(what happened after he died? there was something about a bus - would that take him back to the moment it went wrong? fix his twisted fate?)]

I--

[what are words, we just don't know]

Edited 2018-06-23 08:08 (UTC)

[ ...right. all right. she's making the executive decision that they both need to be sitting down. blowing out an unsteady breath and tugging gently at him ]

[hm, yes, sitting would probably be good. he goes when she tugs him, nearly boneless]

Edited 2018-06-25 08:50 (UTC)

[ good. excellent. petting and cuddle pile will continue until morale improves, or at least some kind of equilibrium is reached.

there's a soft, wordless nudge from Samael at that thought— not a communication in even images so much as a remembrance of one of the things they'd been planning after this. then, more concretely: "It will not take much effort right now ... and we can replant them later."

not much more effort still sounds like a lot, since she's pretty sure the vaguely wrung-out dishcloth feeling currently inhabiting her muscles is actually coming from her partner. but she'd been the one to suggest it and she can (mostly) take care of herself, and so Lilith hums very quietly in agreement to apparently nothing before letting go of the Dahlia with one hand to press her fingers into the dirt.

there's no grand pronouncement this time; only the sweet, calming scent of chamomile as little white buds break through the soil and pop open. ]

[meanwhile he's just pressing himself against her side, nearly silent but very insistent. still squeezing his bunny, of course. the blooming chamomile does seem to relax him a little, so, point for Lilith.

eventually, he does speak up, his voice husky and quiet]

Why the fuck did you plant kudzu.

[ —caught off guard enough that she snorts, rough. but the hand still on his back curls into the fabric of his shirt. ]

...The ones who didn't have enough left of them to go home. The ones who were lost. They deserve to be remembered, too.

[ "They had so much and we had so little to take. We thought, surely. Surely they would leave us with what we had. Our little lives, next to their grand ones. We never hurt anyone. We never hurt anyone. But they came. They saw it. Our small gifts. They took it all. Strip-mined. They left us as husks. We had so little to take. So little. They would throw away such small things, careless, every day. To us it was precious. They took it all."

it would be easy, so easy to hold a grudge. but in the end... that person had been trapped, too. ]

Edited 2018-06-26 06:59 (UTC)

["the ones who were lost".

that--

he came very close to being one of those, didn't he?]

... guess so.

[ pats him ]

I'm keeping it trimmed and potted, so it can't get into the rest of the garden. But... it's nice to see it flower, for once.

I didn't know it was supposed to.

I didn't, either. She did, though.

[ rolling her eyes upward so he gets who she means; the skull's lower jaw slowly half-shuts before dropping back open. ]

[he's curious, a little, about how that parasite/host deal works now; isn't she alive again too?

but it doesn't really seem relevant or worth the energy to dig into, so he doesn't.]

It is kind of nice.

Edited 2018-06-26 09:59 (UTC)

...Mm.

[ she's quiet for several long, comfortable moments, and then hesitantly offers: ]

I don't know if you would prefer to stay on the land they'll give you, or... mm. Regardless, we can make sure you have dahlias if you want them.

[squeezes his bunny and looks up]

I do. Black ones, like these.

Of course.

[ there's a faint near-breathy note to her voice as she says it that he might recognize from brief interactions with the snake skull arbiter. the answer is from the both of them. ]

Edited 2018-06-27 07:37 (UTC)

[unfortunately that detail is lost on him at the moment, but maybe he'll understand it with time.]

... Dunno what I'll do with my own land. Never had to do that kind of work before.

[ she makes a low, rusty noise in the back of her throat ]

It isn't difficult to learn.

[ ...a beat as she pauses and. actually looks at his weedy self ]

...somewhat strenuous, though. If you need extra muscle, I'll have the time to help now that I've finished this.

[excuse u this skinny rich white boy is 100% LEAN MUSCLE]

I used to - fight a lot, before. It's not the same, but I'm pretty strong.

As someone who did the same— there's a difference between strength and stamina. ...And hitting someone, and having to tear a stump free from the earth, for that matter.

There's gonna be stumps on my land?

There might be. Sizable rocks, too; my land certainly had both.

[I don't want to be THAT shitty rich kid

but]

[ p. pats him. ]

Like I said, I don't mind helping. And you don't have to get everything in order all at once; use the time and the work to figure out which parts you like best, and then you can plan around that.

I guess so.

... It'll be good to actually do something again.

Edited 2018-07-02 00:33 (UTC)

... It is good.

[

leans against her again]

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