thevoidsdarkhorse | Heart Game (Continued)

[Gonna go grab one!]

[1xPillow]

[Okay, benefit of one less item having emotional implications.

Pillow + dead cat carefully put on top, arranged on the bed. MORBID SORTA. No need to hide a beloved friend in the shadows, Roxy.]

[Pillows are pillows man.]

['^']

[A ping, a desire.]

[Always wanted to have a funeral.]

[Then let's focus an equal sympathy on that. He wishes he could have had a chance to bury his parents. To bury Van. To bury Mary. To let them have some final resting place, instead of being lost to Hod or Eldrant's destruction.

Dead cat will get a coffin. Cat sized coffin, of course, still on the bed.]

[Oh yeah, that's a lot of sympathy.]

[It's not about morbidity, it's about remembering. Honoring them. Because they existed and that existence deserved to be acknowledged.]

[Be it a cat, or a person, they deserve it.]

[Cat is in a coffin and the pain is...eased somewhat.]

[Amen, sister. Especially when you're one of the only ones (if not THE only one) left to remember them.

Goodnight, sweet nameless cat.

Can he see out any of the room's windows? Non-voidy-weird windows, anyway.]

[B-basically...]

[You see a tree.]

[You are...honestly not sure why you have a window connected to a tree. You haven't remembered that yet, but it makes you hopeful. So there are SOME plants on the planet. And somewhere there is a tree that you found. You wonder how far you had to swim for it, but still.]

[It's life. It's life on a dead world and maybe that MEANS something, you want it to mean something so badly.]

[It is being shown through a voidy window, because there's no trees in her Neighborhood.]

[Hello, tree.

It's a small, delicate flicker of hope, one that he doesn't want to mess with. So he'll leave the window be and finally exit the room, walking to the other side of the hall.

Two doors here, right?]

[Small, desperate hope, yes.]

[Yes. And there's still crying behind one.]

[Opening that door, then.]

Roxy?

[Welcome to pumpkin observatory]

[Crying seems to be coming from the other side of the room, other side of the pumpkins.]

[....That is a lot of pumpkins.

Trying to. Step through them. Without making a mess.]

[Don't give too much, they don't have self control, you're the only one who can watch the moderation. There's only so much you can get at once, but always have a reserve for the bad times. Careful, careful, careful, you're the only one who can do this, you're all alone in this effort.]

[And on the other side of the pumpkins is Roxy.]

[Who looks to be only about five years old, crying into her knees.]

[.....oh. Oh no, this isn't small feral child, is it...

As soon as he sees her, he lowers himself down, makes himself smaller a good distance away

then gives a quiet whistle to get her attention.]

[She jumps and looks at him, startled.]

[Palms up, quiet, not moving towards her and not looking at her directly, using his peripheral instead.

Slowly, carefully, he's taking out the blanket from before, folding it over one arm as he shows it to her, his free hand making a motion down from his eyes. You were crying. Do you want to feel better?]

[She's still at first, uncertain, still curled up.]

[She sniffles and rubs at her eyes, and there's words there. She wasn't crying that much. Just...maybe something in her eyes.]

[After all, his tonal hearing has been shit for the heart, but there is a reason for the boost in body language reading.]

[But then she looks at the blanket, an arm moving towards it, and she's a far worse liar like this, because there is longing, wanting, and a question. Did he really want to help her?]

[A gentle smile in return, warm and paternal. It hurts a bit that he can't just hold her and whisper sweet nothings to calm her, like he used to do for Luke. But he wants to help, even if it just gives her a little more security in a scary situation.

So he shifts the blanket to the arm closest to her, carefully holding it out.]

...

[She reaches out for the blanket, slowly, hesitant and she shifts between it and his face.]

[Are you real?]

[...Hooo okay... okay... not much of a way around this answer.

Carefully, carefully sliding his hand out from under the blanket, palm up and shaking considerably. It's there for her to touch.

I'm real. I'll let you decide for yourself, though.]

[She hesitates. She sees the fear, it's hard for her not to, and it's confusing.]

[But she's young and she makes an assumption because, well...]

[She's afraid too.]

[Maybe it's scarier when you're older. Is it longer being alone then?]

[Slowly, she reaches out, touching his hand, and she jumps a bit because he's warm, but...but he's REAL.]

[HAHAHA SO MUCH TREMBLING AT THE TOUCH BFDHSBFSD and he's curling in on himself not so unlike the girl touching his hand. Oops.

But he'll inhale, exhale, fight the heat rising in his throat do exactly what he did with Doom's version of Roxy. That fear is raw and eats at him, but he digs at it, digs it up with the sadness and the loneliness, that he KNOWS it hurts to be so young and so lonely, so afraid, with so much weight on your shoulders.

Even a grown-up gets afraid. Very afraid.

But there's nothing wrong with being afraid when life is scary.

And, at least for right now, please please please know, little one, that you are not alone.]

[She looks at him with confused, wide eyes, and she...she knows you're hurting, but it's hard to understand because Carapacians aren't complex creatures. There's a lot here, and it's hard to understand, but she shifts closer, she wants to HELP because it's okay.]

[It's okay because we don't have to be alone, and that's good right, things can be BETTER and-]

[And maybe this helps?]

[Small child is going to hug him.]

W-wait, wait--

[But oops, hugs happened. He instantly recoils with a hoarse shriek, dropping the blanket as he flails backwards, arms clenching over his head, tucked down against his knees.

I can't I can't I can't I can't I'm too scared I can't---!!]

Edited (how did that happen) 2015-01-25 06:43 (UTC)

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