deercountry | August + September Catchall

[L should be tired these days but finds that he's just a fount of energy, able to stay up for, so far, four nights on end. He should probably be concerned, but he's actually just thrilled about being able to get so much done.

The Rookery is large, and while he has no shortage of space there are others who live here besides just him and Sansa. He tries to give Vi space, ordinarily, but after the many independent excursions to the shipwrecks, he's somewhat curious about the artifact she retrieved.

He raps softly at the door, which is already slightly ajar, or else he might not have dared.]

Hello? I heard you brought back a statue, and I was hoping to take a closer look.

[vi finds herself in the midst of another drawing - it's d again - it's been more of the theme this month - this time he's fighting a beast - the beast itself is partially obscured by the flow of d's hair - by the billow of his coat, and by inky smoke. a nightmare steed looms on the edges, ready to attack the barely visible beast should d need the aid.

so deep in the drawing is she that l's voice startles her - and she blinks, nods, sets her pen aside, waving him in with an inkstained hand.

he'll find the curtains drawn back no matter the hour - so she can look out all three windows whenever she has a mind to - which is often. a pair of beat up cast iron gauntlets hang from a carefully placed hook in the wall, above a a string of lights with paper stars suspended from it. ten paper stars arranged together in various clusters.

another star sits on her desk, along with her many piles of art: clothing, creatures, the suggestion of machinery, and nonsense (it's d.). there are numerous paper frogs (probably a plate of cookies) and a couple pieces of sea statuary. one is a ...blob, really, and the other - the one closest to her is a funny little seahorse with an odd-shaped face. ]

Wha--oh, hey. Yeah. Two of 'em. Take your pick.

[D's face is recognizable to L, having seen him in passing and especially notably on a dream walk. He tries not to let it distract him too much, though it's something worth probing later. Perhaps Vi is an admirer, or at least a friend, to dwell so much on his visage. She'd know more than he does about the mysterious, inhuman near-stranger.

His own room isn't decorated at all, a testament to the fact that he seldom appreciates ornaments or style choices in a room. The stars get a passing glance, less than the drawings. The gauntlets get the longest, most lingering look of all, before his dark eyes return promptly enough to his housemate. Better than trying to visually sort through the busy mess on her desk, just now, although he must in order to isolate the two statues.]

Both, if you'd be willing, but only for a few moments each. I've studied some of the old languages in Trench and I've been asking to see the inscriptions on any recovered pieces, if they're even slightly legible.

Sure, have at it. There's definitely ...shapes and things there that, yeah ...it makes sense they'd be words. I didn't really think about it too much.

[she shrugs, makes a small smile as if to say maybe stupid of me, i know, but the ocean had been inviting, and adaine's presence (and willingness to accompany her - agreement that this was not a trap) had bolstered her confidence. and dare she say it - so far she'd managed to mostly dodge the random floods, neither the rookery nor ursula's were touched - though that was more likely due to wards, she couldn't overlook it. not when she'd also been unafflicted of the infection that had begin to spread itself through the city, and her vileblood had been almost entirely unaffected by the spikes some others had been seeming to have ...save the incident with the steed. we do not speak about the horse incident. any lingering marks on her face had gone unremarked on - she assumes it will be attributed to a fight, which is not ...wrong.]

I think they might be good luck charms.

[L had been formerly confident in his ability to decipher what was legible on sight, but once he actually gets close enough to examine the statues, he instead pulls out his omni and photographs the inscriptions from several different angles.]

Interesting. It bears a resemblance to one of the languages I've studied here... they might share an ancient root. In any case, with what I know at this exact moment, I can probably only make an educated guess about these meanings. Based on morphemes I'm familiar with, the first one is some sort of matriarchal figure... either "queen" or "mother"... and the second is "spirit", "essence," or "death". Did you find these together, or separated between different cabins or even different ships entirely?

[l reminds her of palamedes in this sense (and also of viktor and saeri and in a chaotic tangential way, her sister) - it's a level of smart she doesn't even try to pretend to comprehend, the learning of ancient languages, of sequences, of codes and what have you.

It's a harder reach for her than even the politicking of sansa's home, which she might be able to grasp if she made a chart - or if sansa made her one. a morphe-whuh?]

One was in a ship and the other was just ...kinda on the way to another ship. In between ships? Would that change the meaning somehow?

[his guess sounds more educated than a lot of things she has seen and heard, some of which were scribbled in the book she'd found in her back when she washed up the first time. she wonders how many languages he has studied - how many he speaks, reads even. he at least, from this demonstration, can read the language of "glowy ocean litter".]

Spirit, essence or death, huh?

It might matter. If they were found together I would be more likely to think that they were meant to be interpreted together, or that they were a part of the same set. But things drift, with regards to shipwrecks... it's not a possibility that can be ruled out.

[He nods, squinting again at the runes on the second figure.]

It could be a deity representing death. That encapsulates everything I mentioned that's ambiguous. Do you have a feeling about it?

Like, do they give me the creeps or anything? Nah. It doesn't feel like a 'fuck you', from the ocean, though. The whole thing? It felt like she was trying to be ...not cool, but definitely a change from all the chaos. She coulda drowned us if she wanted, but instead she...

[this shrug is thoughtful, not dismissive.]

I like the seahorse better, even if I can't see its face. Do you feel anything when you touch them, or ...try to read what's there?

Any feeling; intuition is often undervalued in spite of the myriad ways it can be just as important as knowledge or deduction. That could be a Paleblood motto, but... someone who's got a way with words would probably need to retool it and make it a bit catchier.

[He thoughtfully considers the seahorse.]

I don't prefer one over the other, but it's interesting that you do. Do you feel anything negative toward the matriarchal figure? Contempt or fear, perhaps?

Ask Sansa, she's good with words. And mottos. All her people have words to go with their names. It'd be kinda cool if the blood types did, too.

[she gives this more consideration than she might usually, and the artifact itself allows her to voice those thoughts with zero hesitation.]

Do I? I'm not sure. Maybe a little bit of fear, but it's more like ...there's something under that. Not contempt, that one I'd know. I think I feel a little ...sad?

I ask Sansa a lot of things, for that precise reason. It's always sound advice, so... thank you.

[Hearing something he knows to be true and can therefore immediately agree on seems to bump up his housemate's worthiness of trust by a few iotas, at least.]

Sad.

[He squints at the figure, as if considering it from a new angle, before nodding solemnly. There's a childlike focus and intensity to his expression as he says]

Mariana is unhappy, lately. It could just be correlation, but... it's like you said before. Nothing stopped you from finding these. Your sadness might be deeply coveted empathy, by one who starves for it.

Edited 2022-10-01 02:24 (UTC)

Sucks to be Mariana if that's the case.

[her expression isn't mean, it's thoughtful, she just can't seem to find what small filter she has, but it doesn't bother her.]

Feelings are a mess. Probably not any easier for Mariana, either. Whatever they are, she wanted us to have them. And I haven't grown suckers yet, or...

...have a cookie if you want. Did you go down there too?

[and belatedly:]

Sansa's advice has probably saved my ass a couple times. Actually, scratch probably and moving into pretty solid sure.

I don't deign to assume what it's like to be any of the Pthumerians.

[L avoids her eyes when he says this.]

I do believe that she want4ed us to have these, and that our ability to decipher them is welcome. And I did and...

[He does want a cookie, always. His eyes are uncertain.]

How long have you known Sansa?

[Easier to ask, than whether or not he's welcome to have a cookie.]

That's probably the smart thing to do.

[she shrugs - hey, she can only guess at what the ocean might want, or what it likes and doesn't like. she has opinions on a couple others that she's waiting (and would honestly like) to be proven wrong. their "motivations" are probably a lot more complex (or simple) than she can imagine.]

Since the Reckoning's month. July. Tack one day on to that, back when it was cold and snowy here. When did you meet her?

[where she sees uncertainty she'll clarify. because everyone should have a cookie if they want one, unless their name is silco. (and then ...maybe.)]

The cookies are for everyone you know, totally fair game. You cross the threshold, you can claim a cookie.

I suppose we technically go back to March, now that I think of it.

[It's a little wild. While many in Trench grow accustomed to the notion of bonds formed fast and fiercely, only to be ripped away at any time, most of the relationships L's established are actually longer than his grand average in his home world.]

If you're offering I guess it's rude to say no.

[He's rude in other ways, though. If offered one cookie, he'll probably take two, and he does so without much further hesitation.]

[it's rude to take two cookies? vi did not get that memo. besides, she did offer, and she would not stop at one, herself. he gets a nod of approval for that.]

That's the ticket. Take three if you want, that's why I got 'em. And I can always get more. [the look on her face says she's still getting used to that part.]

I probably would have met you then, too. If I hadn't gone back into the sea. I don't remember doing it, but...

[vi wouldn't know what to average hers against if asked. she barely recalls her youngest bits of childhood - and the years with vander after that, the years when she still had powder, her small crew - it's so faraway it may as well be another lifetime. she's not sure how many years it even was. she's more sure about how many it's been since, but even there it's a bit hazy around the edges. stillwater was a stretch of years divided into only a couple categories: general pop or solitary, and sometimes infirmary.]

[He does want. He seems a little surprised at the invitation, but doesn't hesitate to slip a third cookie off the plate and onto the neat little stack that's formed in his palm.]

I washed up last year in October, but it didn't stick. I went back to the sea and returned in November, and it did, then. I remember everything, to my knowledge, but... it's not always the same, is it? The bodies and minds we inhabit here are subject to some very strange phenomena, much of it outside of our ability to control.

[it shouldn't be funny. but it is, to hear it put that way.]

That's it. You've just summed up the whole thing. They should put that on the map.

[they should.]

Yours sounds better than "Just so you know, the bodies and minds you get are subject to some weird shit, good luck with that." Take another cookie for that one.

[He tilts his head, looking uncertain. Since starting to partake in more gentle and lower-stakes interactions with other humans, he finds that he often has some difficulty figuring out if he's being made fun of.

He decides to assume the best, reaching for another cookie.]

If you could leave, would you?

[her expression will remain pleased until he takes the cookie, and then her grin widens with a single nod. she's quick to answer his question.]

No. Absolutely a no. Would you?

[He takes a small nibble of his cookie. If the rate remains constant, it will take him approximately four hours to get through his stack.]

No. I know that I really don't have anything to go back to. Same reason, I presume, as yours, or at least a similar one.

[yeah, that's the reason. she'd rather not take the chance on going back to that - it seems irreparable from so many angles. he can take his time if he wants, she will draw off and on - pausing if he has a question. nothing about her manner indicates she minds at all. anything but.]

Same reason. It'd be worse than here, so yeah. Hard pass for me.

[she knows there are people here that would possibly rather be home, and it's hard for her to relate. she feels bad for them - that just seems ...really unfair.]

It's true that coming here as squids seems to mollify a lot of the distress we might ordinarily feel at being suddenly transplanted, but it's interesting to me that there's still a circumstantial divide.

I wonder if it'll ever come down to some of us fighting to stay, or leave.

Honestly if someone pitched this place to me after the last thing I remember back home? I'd can't say I wouldn't have jumped on that.

I hope not. I don't wanna decide for other people. I'd fight for myself, if it meant I'd get to stay. But if it meant other people had to stay and they just wanted out? I ...dunno.

Don't you have a right to fight for what you want, as much as anyone else?

August + September Catchall

AUGUST: The Rookery, Closed to Vi

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