deercountry | it's the solstice

Who: Mako, Wu, & close CR
What: They might be in a different world, but the solstice is the solstice, and that means it's time to feed everyone you care about, if you're Mako
When: Night of December 21st
Where: Mako and Wu's loft above the Raccoon Room

Content warnings: Sadness from potential memory-share stuff, homesickness, mentions of Mako and Bo's dead parents

© TESSISAMESS

If you have close CR with Mako or Wu, in the days leading up to the Winter Solstice—December 21st—you may have gotten a small text invite in your inbox. A few simple lines inviting you to the Raccoon Room on the night of the 21st for dinner "because it's the solstice." Normally the Raccoon Room is closed early in the week, but on the 21st they've opened it up.

They're actually having people over in the loft above the Raccoon Room, and their living space is decked out in lanterns and candles to keep out the long darkness. Snow falls quietly outside, but in here it's warm and it smells like ginger and pepper. Wu's put on a few scratchy records in the background. Here and there, Winter Mournings are hung, not quite out of reach. It's very easy to accidentally or purposefully touch one.

If anyone comes in early enough, Mako is still at the counter with his sleeves rolled up, rolling dumplings, covered in rice flour. Maybe help him cook? He's looking better than he was early in the month: his skin is the correct pallor without that odd gray cast, and there's no smoke rolling off his body, so that... has to be good!

For the later arrivals, Mako's made dinner, which means hot tangyuan in gingery broth, an entire bowl of mushroom noodles for sharing, and a simmering pot of broth for people to cook things in, as well as a lot of a tangy sauce that Mako gets kind of cagey about when people try. Sit down, enjoy some hot pot! It's a time to be together, after all.

[ ooc: tag around, top-level, have a good time! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It shouldn't hurt so bad to have a memory confirmed. It shouldn't... but it does. But maybe in a good way?

Bolin presses his lips together, chewing them for a second while he thinks about those skirts. The few, thin memories he has left of long hair and singing. Feeling safe against someone so much bigger than him and knowing- absolutely knowing- that he was safe.

He swallows hard and nods, raising his other hand to hover in tandem.]

Count of three. One.. two.. three..

[ They press their hands down together.

What they're given isn't a visual thing. It's not a sound, either: it's a smell, ginger and garlic and tart tamarind, something more savory and deeper. Not just the sauce but all the things that go with it, broth and spices and battered vegetables. It's the scent of their kitchen at the solstice, a blend of Fire Nation spices and a sauce from Ba Sing Se that they'd mixed together into their own little thing. Mako sucks in a sharp breath, his eyes closing entirely without his say-so. It's like he's there, swinging his legs on the counter next to their mom as she stirs, telling him about all the spices she's putting in and how their dad used to do it wrong, how she rescued him with Ember Island peppercorns from languishing in a spiceless wasteland. ]

[It hits hard and nostalgic, mixing into the air around them that smells so very, very similar. Bolin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, tensing his shoulders a little to stay balanced as he takes it all in with a small whine.

it's like the flower knew where they were. What night it was. It's like their mom was waiting to offer one last guiding hand.]

It's the pepper. That's what's missing.

[ Mako says it like he's in a dream, his eyes still closed. ]

Mom... toasted it, I think. Got them from Ember Island. They're called ice pepper because they're kind of cold, too, remember?

Best when toasted in the hand of a firebender.

[Rhetoric popular with vendors and chefs. He's heard the slogan many times but associates them more with bang-bang komodo chicken than he does their mom. Not that he would ever tell Mako that. Not now, not ever. Whilst Bolin is the keeper of their traditions, he stays in the present as a coping mechanism. And while it means he's usually grounded and centered and pleasant, it also means he has to sacrifice object permanence and his memory is short. Too much has happened to them, and those two years of age between him and his brother aren't much now but it was miles when they were kids.

And that's what they were. They were just children.

But how can he say he barely remembers anything before their parents died? Just wisps of skirts and lullaby and strong arms. Sometimes he wonders if he's just making those up, too.

Really, this gift couldn't have been better. He's remembered so much since he woke up with it next to him.]

Do you have anything close?

Edited 2022-01-12 02:55 (UTC)

Red pepper gets pretty close, but it doesn't have the same...

[ The smell is fading, a little, and Mako leans down closer to the ball like that will bring it back, his nerves spiking all at once. He can't lose it, he has to remember—to sear it into his head, cauterize it so it stays untouched on a shelf there. ]

It's just the one? The one memory, in this thing.

It's the same until the flower dies, then something new will appear. You can touch it as many times as you want. Here-

[Reaching to offload it into Mako's hand. He'd only kept a barrier between himself and the orb because he had a feeling that whatever this new flower held would be something for Mako and he didn't want to experience it first.]

I think this one was for you.

[ Mako curls his palm around it like it's a fragile flower itself, breathing in the renewed smell of that sauce. His lungs feel too big for his ribs, like they're going to overflow and spill between the cracks. He swallows around the lump in his throat. It doesn't go away. ]

Where... did you get this, bro?

[Alas, it isn’t a spectacularly interesting story.]

It was next to my bed one day. I’m not sure, but I think it might be a Patron’s Gift.

From your Pthumerian, huh. Which one's that?

[ Mako's eyes are still closed. He's still half-lost in the smell of this thing, but talking about Pthumerians and Patrons is a reminder of where he really is: in his kitchen, in Trench, with probably a bunch of people coming over and food to finish. With a quiet huff, Mako opens his eyes again and sets the thing carefully on the counter. ]

Help me finish chopping stuff for the hotpot while you're here.

[He can do that, nodding and righting the orb on the little metal stand it came with before moving to take up his station with Mako’s best knife.

This feels good. This feels like how it should. Like everything is going to be okay, and he slides right back into place at his brother’s side.

One last order of business, though.]

Oh- I haven’t got to tell you yet. I moved in with Lance and his buddy Hunk. So that’s all taken care of.

...oh.

[ Mako's taken slightly by surprise with that. He hadn't know what he expected—for Bolin to move in with them? Obviously not, there's no room. For him to get his own place, maybe, but...

After he gets used to the idea, Mako smiles a little. ]

You have your own room? How much of it did you have to bend yourself?

Ha ha, very funny.

[Such a jerk, but he quips back without heat. Surely the joke is just extra proof that they’re okay again.]

You sound surprised. I know it’s hard to believe but I’m a popular guy. I’ve had a lot of offers, you know.

[ It's such a ridiculous relief just to joke with his brother again that Mako can't help but grin at him, elbowing Bolin in the side as he chops. ]

You gonna start bringing your screaming fans back to your new place?

You know, I think I might. It's been a while since I've had a place to bring them. Can't say no to a good groupie.

it's the solstice

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