networkinthenight | Trinkets ; ( text + action prompt)

Entry tags:

Trinkets ; ( text + action prompt)

[This is the only way she knows how to reach out to the residents of Beacon she doesn't know. Xayah seriously wishes Rastus was more specific with his request.]

Rastus asked me to make trinkets, bracelets, and necklaces for people that are sad. There are too many people around though and I don't know everyone.

So, if you have a friend that could use one (or want one for yourself), drop by the Greenhouse. I can also show you the elements I work with so I can make you something of your own choice in the end.

Drop by in the evening hours; I have some stuff to do right now.

Action prompt

[She's been standing in front of the church for an hour now, two long necklaces dangling from her hand- one made from white and yellow stones with a citrine rock on the edge; the other made from dark beads and pebbles, with a bright red stone on it.

She doesn't believe in the Gods others believe in. Xayah only believed in her father and Rakan in the past and that's where it ended. The world had betrayed her too many times to put her trust in it again. Yet, despite that...

The door creaks when she pushes them open, stepping close towards the altar with candles. She's not taking them, touching them or trying to blow them out. She just puts what she made on the wax-stained stone and takes a step back.]

I don't know how to pray the way you two do but... I hope you're fine. [She looks around the church, pulls coat tighter around herself and turns around to leave-] ...wherever you are...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She doesn't know how he slipped from her radar when she walked in. Maybe she was in the church longer than she thought she was. Then again, time is irrelevant here. Folding her wings so that they don't bother her, she walks over and takes a seat next to him.

For the moment, she doesn't say anything either. Just stares at those candles flickering insecurely in the draft that's ever-present in this church.]

[The Winter Soldier is a ghost. Of course she didn't spot them. (More likely they're just quiet and hunched down in the pew, in the darkest spot in the whole place.) They sit in silence for a long moment, tapping the pencil slowly and thoughtfully on the blank page of the notebook.]

Haven't found Crowley. I looked. M'sorry.

[Because they know she was close with him. Can't let it be thought they didn't at least look for him.]

[Is there anything to be said though? She doesn't know how to deal with emotions; at least, in a non-violent way. Everything that she's done so far was anger-driven, and when she was sad about her people disappearing, that too she turned into anger and violence. But now- she can't do that and mostly because she doesn't know who got them to disappear to direct her anger at.]

Don't be. I didn't find him either...

[She had flown around for hours and sat in trees overseeing the paths. No use.]

[Soldat is still learning methods of coping with feelings. So far, it mostly boils down to origami, feeding people, writing things down, and occasionally hitting a boiling point and punching trees. They're not at their punching trees stage yet.]

He spent two months sleeping. And then wakes up and disappears as soon as Aziraphale flies a little too high and gets eaten. Or whatever happened. So now they're both gone.

[They do sound pretty unhappy about that. They get it. They do. But it still hurts in a whole weird collection of ways.]

[That's way more productive than what she does. Luckily she didn't reach the anger stage just yet otherwise she'd go into the forest and do dumb shit (by dumb shit I mean get in trouble with spirits).

Xayah rubs her eyes with the palms of her hands-]

This place needs to stop.

[She's not sure how her sanity remained intact but she can feel it slip away at moments. And people she cared about that disappear don't help the matter.]

I know.

[Soldat curls forward to rest their arms on their upraised knees, feet propped up on the pew in front of them and chin tucked onto their arms. Metal one on the bottom, since it's both hard and cold.]

Ain't fair to let somebody make friends for the first time in seventy years, and then take 'em away.

[Xayah slouches into her seat, despite it being uncomfortable because of her wings, but honestly, a bit of pain is good to keep her sane. Just the thought of her wings and flying reminds her of Crowley, as he helped her get to the skies again, and she feels a piercing stab through her gut.]

This better be some kind of test. Spirits fucking with us again to see if we can handle it.

Spirits have left us alone, mostly, since the siege. Or done good things.

[A pause.]

Things they think are good. I don't think this is them. I think. If Aziraphale went somewhere. Did something. Crowley followed him. If one comes back. They both will.

[And if one doesn't come back... neither will the other. Or they won't stay long. Soldat is trying not to think about that too hard.]

That doesn't mean we can just put our guard down around them.

[Xayah doesn't know about him, but she certainly doesn't intend to relax. Getting lulled into false sense of security is the most dangerous thing around here.]

Hmm... they really are like a hand and a glove.

[She knows Crowley is a demon and she wonders if, when he was created, the first thing he saw was Aziraphale across of him, like an opposite side of the same coin.]

I can like someone without trusting them.

[But you're not going to convince Soldat that some of the spirits can't be actual friends. The loss of Owl Friend is still one big ache, behind the stress of these new potential losses. They turn their head, resting their cheek on the flesh arm instead, to look in Xayah's general direction.]

You're still angry at them. Over the siege. Would it help to know that the green eyes might literally control the other spirits? Made them do those things?

How the hell does that work?

[She can't like someone whom she distrusts. Maybe she's just bad at hiding her feelings. She was never good at it to begin with. Her temper is mild these days, but it only needs one thing to get her out of control.
Xayah realizes that some of the spirits are helpful, but others that are 50/50 always fall onto the bad side for her.]

Oh? And what about those spirits in the Courthouse? No one seems to be controlling them. Or some other spirits that lash out as we try to explore the rest of the Beacon to try and utilize it to help.

[She shakes her head and sighs,] Who knows. Maybe, in the end, the rest of the spirits were using green-eyed ones as a scapegoat. They are the ones that stand out to us right now, it's easy to hide behind them.

All I know is my friend was afraid of them. And afraid of Mewtwo when I brought them to meet each other, because Mewtwo only spoke in the mind. Like the green-eyes, apparently.

[They shake their head a little against their arm, then actually shut their eyes a moment.]

They're like people. Have to take them as they come. As individuals. Green-eyes are all bad, but the others. They vary.

[Soldat is a champ at hiding their feelings, tbh. It was their best defense with HYDRA. And since the people they actually completely trust they can count on one hand-- and one of the people on that list is gone, now-- they wouldn't get anywhere without being able to like even while half-expecting to be hurt.]

We don't have the means to separate the good ones from the bad ones. Even the good ones attacked us with pretenses that it's for "own good" when half of us died.

[Xayah had only ever trusted two people fully in her life- her father and Rakan. And neither of them are here. Everything else seemed like a temporary alliance. Crowley earned her respect and favor, but before things could move on- he was gone.]

Finding a way to defend against green-eyed ones is our priority now. We can't move around the forest.

[Soldat is moderately sure that was less their choice and more because they were being forced, at this point. They remember snatches of the fight with Crowley and the hound spirits, and how the green-eyed one protected itself by forcing the others to take hits for it. But they're not here to argue.]

Might be ways. Fjord has a wisdom charm Pluto gave him, something magic. Wants to test it. Won't let him until his ribs heal up more. And I've got... an idea, too. Would only work for me, though.

[They haven't told Xayah yet about the whole Sergeant-and-Asset thing. They're not really sure how she'd take it.]

[A wisdom charm. She frowns- weren't those sold on the Night Market? She doesn't know what kind of magic is involved in those so she didn't dare buy it and use it. That machine rendering her useless for a month was enough as it is. She learned her lesson.]

Tell him to be careful. Magic never comes free. To get magic you need to give something back. Usually it is mana, the innate flow in magical creatures. But he's human so he should be alert.

[She nods- Xayah has her views on things, but she's not stubborn or dumb to let it get in the way if things can get better.]

If you need my help, ask. Our points of view can differ but we are after the same thing.

It doesn't come for free. It gives wisdom, but it takes something away instead.

[Soldat dredges up a little smile.]

He can't lie when he wears it. All magic has a price, yeah?

[And Fjord isn't entirely human. The guy's green. But Soldat doesn't know for sure what he is, so they don't really correct her. Fjord can someday, if he wants to.]

I'll keep it in mind. Not sure if it'll work. Requires finding green-eyes and testing. So. Pretty dangerous.

Yes, indeed it does.

[No telling lies? That's a cheap price to pay, considering no one should be lying in the first place. But then again, even if she's not keen on lying, she doesn't say everything all the time.]

We're already dead. What's the worst that can happen that already didn't?

[She kind of gets what other forests spirits mean by 'what is death to dead'.]

There's worse things than death.

[Soldat has experienced those, too. Death isn't really that bad, for the most part, especially here when you can come back perfectly healed and energized and not even hungry.]

I'd rather die than lose my memories of this place. Of these people. The pieces of what I've gotten back.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Trinkets ; ( text + action prompt)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject