[audio] @eleven; Santa's Secret Game [open]

[savingthrows]

[ Eleven's voice is tired. Drained - her earlier foray into the Void has come back to haunt her during Beacon's Defense with dire consequence, and she feels faint these days, unable to tap into the powers she so violently overused to defend the sleeping inhabitants of Beacon. ]

Home... back home. My... uhm. Mike... told me.

[ She stops talking for a moment. The sound of a quiet breath; she's gathering her thoughts. If you've been here a while you know that she struggles with her words when she's exhausted, when she's upset, when she's emotional. ]

I had one, back home. Christmas... [ She says the word slowly, unsure. ] Mike and me and a few friends, we... played a... game, maybe? Santa's Secret Game... I think. You put your name in a... hat, and then when it's full, you draw one. A name. And you get a gift for that person. But... you can't tell anyone. It's a secret, until they get the gift.

[ The sound of something crinkling. Paper, maybe. ]

I asked Rastus for... paper. For presents. And... ribbons and... bags. I wanted...

I thought...

[ She goes quiet for another moment, then: ]

Presents are... nice. Can we.

Can we just... have something... nice?

Just be nice.

I think, maybe... we could play the game? And give gifts. And be nice.

I... it's. It's from home...

[ooc: Feel free to respond to El, but in the wake of this network post, in the following week she'll go around approaching Beaconites with a large gift bag to collect sign ups for Secret Santa (even if she mislabels the 'game' slightly.

Sign-up can be handwaved through THIS OOC Post, that also includes further information on how this is gonna shake out. ]

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[savingthrows]

yes i will see you

[ She makes her way to the bonfire immediately. There's tight dread around her chest, and discomfort. The past two weeks have rattled her, and truth be told confessing she still has something she shouldn't have kept...

Well. It scares her more than most of the spirits did.

Still, a smile comes easily when she spots him, distinct silver air illuminated by the fire.

For her part, she looks haggard. None of the defenders have had it easy, so that's hardly a surprise. ]

Riku.

[equinoctials]

[ It's been days since the spirits retreated, since Robin's mysterious message on the bulletin, since Vanitas came back and Bruce began grieving the loss of someone Riku only ever met in passing. Since friends started to lick their wounds and pick up the pieces.

Riku's throat is no longer bandaged, but there's a fresh scar. Vanitas and his dark healing accomplished enough that he can, in short periods, speak. He's still taking it easy, sparing his voice when he can.

Eleven's an exception. He turns as she approaches, likewise haggard, but a few decent meals and some fairly adequate rest has started to take the harsher edges off the exhaustion. Just because Riku's not surprised to see how fatigue has etched itself into her face doesn't mean he isn't concerned. ]

Hey, El. You getting any rest?

[savingthrows]

[ In the light of the fire, Eleven takes a moment to observe him. Her fingers come up to touch the scars on her own throat when she sees the one on his, concern etching into her expression. She wants to ask if he's okay, but...

But she's learning.

Peter, in these moments, talks a lot and doesn't say anything with his words at all.

Bruce, in his grief, stops responding.

Riku... maybe she just won't allow herself the chance to find out.

Perhaps this is just the grown up way of things. There's a hole in her chest the size and shape of close friendships, of being tightly interwoven with the people she cares about, and perhaps part of growing up is letting that hole sit instead of trying to fill it again. Perhaps grown ups don't get to be happy and close and unconditional like that.

So Eleven swallows and nods. ]

I have to... recharge.

[ Part of her wants to tell him, then. Friends don't lie, right. She wants to tell him: 'I looked for you, when you were gone, and I didn't know if you were safe and okay. I went to the place in which I died, in which my mind was torn to pretty ribbons and of which I'm oh so very scared, but I needed to know if you were alright. And I saw you, for a moment, and then the void faced dog found me, and it wanted to make me fall forever. I was fine, until I wasn't. Last week, it came back, and it hollowed me out, and now there's nothing in my mind where that spark used to be, and I just want to sleep until it's back, because I'm useless.'

But she doesn't have all the words to say that, and she remembers all too well what Bruce said. That Riku has a hole in his chest, and he worries so much about other people that he forgets to look at it, and so because he doesn't look at it, it might just swallow him.

So... friends don't lie. But she can't tell him, and that sits somewhere low in her gut and weighs her down. She feels like she's sinking. ]

I... found this. When the spirits... stole from us. I didn't know, at first, and then... things happened. I wanted to give it back. I did.

[ And she holds out her hand and unfurls her fingers, and there on her narrow palm sits the little charm he lost to the spirit's theft.

Eleven can't give much, because she realizes in this place all the ways in which she is lacking. Too much of a child to help the grownups, not enough of a person to empathise enough, powerless against all the things that matter, too scared of the dark, too simple, too small in all the ways that count.

But she can give this back, and perhaps that's better.

She wants to tell him how she held onto it because it was a link to him in case he disappeared again, to find him in the dark. She wants to tell him that she would do it, too, the moment her powers return, use this to find him, and other things to find other people, because the risk doesn't matter.

She can't tell him, words caught in her throat, too heavy a burden on her narrow shoulders and her underdeveloped heart, because he will worry about her, or blame himself, or both. So friends don't lie. But perhaps they are not her friends, none of them, at least not in the way she understands friends, not in the way she selfishly needs friends, and perhaps that is alright.

Friends don't lie.

But grown ups do. They lie and they keep secrets.

Her innocence has long been carved out of her, and only recently has she shored it up with the help of everyone from home. Her meager defenses, however, crumble in the face of the slow erosion of all things good and pure and innocent by darkness.

She says none of these things, and just holds out the charm to Riku with an apologetic wince for having kept it from him so long. ]

[equinoctials]

[ She has to recharge, she says, and Riku nods.

For a moment it looks like that will be the end of it. His eyes cut away from her and he softly admits: ]

Me too sometimes.

[ He thinks back on his three missing weeks, but his thoughts stray to M.K., how he's still missing and how they parted ways the last time, and Riku quickly puts that aside.

Eleven and Riku have a lot of trouble communicating or advocating for the things closest to their hearts; Eleven sometimes lacks them, the words to describe how she feels, what she wants; Riku has them and feels them lodge in his throat. They choke on them to silence. Because he can relate, he finds it a little bit easier to admit things he might not have said to anyone else.

Riku has kept secrets from his best friend since he was five years old.

Sometimes, they're benign and necessary.

She opens her hand and Riku's breath leaves him in a quick huff, surprise rounding out his eyes. ]

Kairi's-

[ It's small, a soft, yellow charm in the shape of a star, its stuffing a little lumpy from how often it's been handled, for how much time it's spent in Riku's pocket. Kairi had made it for him when they were all still living in the boathouse together, before calamity took them from him, one after another.

It's the last thing he has left of her. ]

I looked, I- ...I thought it was gone.

[ His hand covers the charm in her palm. When his fingers curl, they clasp it and the hand that holds it. His other arm folds around behind her, and when it tightens, it drags Eleven forward a few inches into a one-armed embrace. ]

Thanks for keeping it safe.