networkinthenight | [Audio] @fjord, Unhappy Discoveries [May 11]

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[Audio] @fjord, Unhappy Discoveries [May 11]

[There's silence for a few moments, as Fjord collects himself. When he does talk, he sounds... tense, and upset, but it's wrapped up tight in a calm facade.]

During the flood, I accidentally discovered an underground tunnel that connects to the church - some sort of mineshaft, almost. I went back after the waters went back down, the other day, and I found a torch down there too, with...

[With Mollymauk's horn. He clears his throat, and continues.]

And, uh... with Soldat earlier today, we went explorin' it properly. Turns out that it connects to that trapdoor in the floor - there's some kind of fancy lock on the underside that we didn't try messing with. Followed it the other way too - about fifteen minutes of walking took us to an intersection, and about the same again took us to this big, steel door. Looks like it was supposed to be locked, but the storm fucked it up enough that we could get inside.

[There's silence, and a quiet, but audible, tremble to his deep breath.]

...well. You could almost call it a catacomb, really, there were. [Another, briefer, pause, and a faint tremor that comes out as an almost amused bounce to his voice.] Actual, uh. Dead bodies in it. There were. Five of them, all up. Covered in mushrooms and decayed as fuck, I don't-- I got no idea how long they might've been down there.

[And another pause, the longest yet.]

Kal-El, Alisaie, and... Mollymauk. I didn't see... there wasn't anything to identify the other two bodies.

[There's a light clatter, identifiable as him putting the tablet down on a hard surface. Another audible breath. And he continues a bit more calmly.]

After that we doubled back, got to the intersection and tried the second path. Not sure how long we were on it for, but given how steep it was, seems like we must've gone under the river - sure sounded like it. That took us to this big twisting tunnel going up. Not sure which direction we were pointin' by the end of it but there was another trapdoor at the top, locked again. Didn't look like there was anywhere else to go besides one a' those trapdoors or- or the door on the other side of that catacomb.

So if anyone wants to go tryin' one a' those locks to see what's on the other side, give us a shout if you get it open, yeah?

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[ That would be the lounge table in front of the double couch, on which Fjord also sits after he receives his drink. ]

You're a real kind character. [ His smile seems a little bit more genuine, in that moment. ] I do appreciate you doin' all this, really. [ He takes a small sip as he leans forward, resting his free elbow on his knee. ]

[ Pudding feels a... pang in her chest she's not at all used to. It's not wholly unfamiliar, though her strongest memory of it - that would be trying and failing to apologize to Sanji. ]

[ She's not really used to guilt. ]

Oh, it's not so big a deal... [ It's a murmur, a little less full-on sugary than her usual voice but still as soft; her eyes cast away for a moment. And it takes her a beat, too, to come around the table and sit on the couch. They're a little beyond waiting to be invited like a proper lady or coy little "may I sit~?" teases - and if not so much the second, maybe, it'd be a bad time. Pudding has never lost someone close to - well. No one close to her has passed on. Or... whatever you'd call it, here. ]

[ She picks up her own mug a little more fluidly, taking a sip to cover her mouth, hide her thoughts, another moment. ]

I just wanted to make sure you ate something, today, if you hadn't yet.

Yeah. [ He lies so smoothly. ] I grabbed a tray from downstairs 'fore I came up.

[ The fact that there's not one visible isn't necessarily incriminating, but it's not positive. He doesn't protest when she takes a seat next to him, but he doesn't try and close the gap in his charming way this time. He just. Appreciates the company. ]

[ He takes another sip, not quite meeting her eyes, before he looks away completely at the sword propped up. ]

Knowin' we can die again here's one thing, but. I guess knowin' it can be really permanent is a bit tougher to sink in.

[ Pudding looks sidelong at him, sipping her tea quietly as she sees right through that lie. The lack of a tray, not necessarily incriminating, no. The fact that all the stores were exactly as she left them between dinner and when she started making this small plate? She just reaches down to the table and slides the tray directly in front of him. Don't lie to the chef, sweetie. ]

It's all still pretty difficult for me to imagine. [ She didn't feel her own death. Hasn't faced a death and return here, hers or anyone else's. All of it feels both dull and fresh: distinct from at home, but not in a way she can relate to personally. Fjord, though... ]

Did you...

[ She stops, shakes her head. ]

No, never mind.

I'm not feelin' particularly up to bare-faced lyin' to you. [ He says, in his usual thick Southern drawl. ] If you wanna ask me somethin', might as well.

[ "Did you" can trail off to a great many things, and honestly he's kind of curious what she was going to ask. ]

[ Pudding bites her lip, takes a minute to stare into her tea. She's not... very good at this comforting thing. Or she doesn't know if she is. She doesn't exactly have a lot of experience. It feels like it's worse to ask, but it could also be awful to just sit in silence and say nothing. ]

You... recognized them. Obviously. [ She doesn't know whether it's worse to say people or bodies, so says neither. ] Did you know any of them well?

[ Oh good, the hard one. ]

[ He's silent for a few moments, but eventually he just. Puts his mostly-full cup back down on the tray. ]

Alisaie and Kal-El, I met here. They both came here on the same boat as me, helped me out with explorin' the rivers a little while on. They were both... good. I didn't know 'em that well, but. They still meant something, you know?

[ He takes a long breath, twining his fingers together in his lap. His hands are a bit too clean, not even any dirt under the nails at the moment. ]

Mollymaulk was... Molly was from my team back home. The Mighty Nein. He... died, trying to rescue me and two of our friends from slavers. I could-- [ He chuckles softly, but there's no joy in it. ] We could hear it from the back of the caravan we were chained up in, but I never... saw him dead. Only saw the memorial they left him when we passed by 'bout a week later. He'd been dead for about three months when I died, too, and met him again here.

[ Pudding's excellent at playing stricken. Horrified. Empathetic. ]

[ It's a different thing entirely to feel them. ]

[ She's beginning to think this friendship thing is more a double-edged sword than a good thing with drawbacks, if hearing Fjord talk about his friend - someone she's never met - can make her feel like this. ]

[ (Does that make it not worth it? She's... not sure, yet, if she'd go that far. Time will tell, but how much of it?) ]

[ Pudding knows about slavers, academically. They're very much not tolerated in Totto Land - slavery either - but she reads the papers, listens to all the stories she's not supposed to hear. Wonders briefly if Fjord has a Dragon's claw or his world's equivalent branded somewhere on his skin. Knows that the things Fjord heard... all the things she's done probably don't compare. ]

[ And then, to meet him again here? ]

[ She tries to imagine seeing Sanji here. ]

[ Immediately tries to wipe that thought from her head entirely, without much success. ]

Fjord...

[ She doesn't know what to say. Come on. If you can fake it when you don't mean it you can fake it when you do. ]

[ Her own cup meets the tray too, and she turns to put one hand on his arm. Just that, for now. ]

I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have - [ She shouldn't have, and means that for once. ] Shit. You don't - have to say anything else. I'm so sorry.

[ There's an unpleasant tightness in his chest now, an exhaustion weighing on his shoulders now that he's letting himself think about it. ]

Naw, you asked. I... set myself up for that one, really.

[ He regrets it, but the damage is done. And now Pudding knows something new about him. Progress...? ]

[ Fjord puts his hand on hers. His really are quite larger than the petite chef's, calloused and pocked with the minor scars of a rough life. ]

You know, it's almost funny. I finally get to meet up with him here and make amends for not being there the first time, and. Then I go and miss it when he disappears for so long that... [ He lifts his hand and covers his mouth, his eyes narrowing like something's stuck in his throat. ] ...I only found out he was dead this time when I found a piece of him, down those tunnels.

[ At first, Pudding rests as she is, just... being a presence, listening, letting Fjord speak. Feeling his heavy hand on hers. But then he - doesn't choke, but may as well, and her chest tightens until it hurts. ]

Oh, Fjord...

[ All her practice might be fake, all her instincts of the right thing to do for vulnerable boys couched in practice and calculation, but her clenching heart lines up with one practiced thing for once, and she rolls up to her knees on the couch cushions, reaches up to put her arms around Fjord's neck and pull him close. Her fingers thread in his hair, and she doesn't need presence of mind - just needs that ache - to try to guide his face to her shoulder or neck, not tuck his temple at her collarbone. ]

[ He isn't looking at her, lost in his own little world for the moment - so he starts when her hand crosses his vision, takes his head in her gentle hands and pulls him in close. He doesn't really move as he feels her fingers softly twine through his growing hair (he needs to cut it, some part of him notes absently, it's almost long enough to tie back). ]

[ ...what does he do now. ]

[ Fjord is not a person who normally receives physical affection. Sure as hell didn't get it growing up in an orphanage; Jester often delivered but her love was pure and indiscriminate, so it never felt truly his; he's had sexual relations, but never proper relationships. This - being cuddled, being held as his chest burns tight and his shoulders ache with the weight of a grief he's never quite felt in this measure... ]

[ It takes him a few long, uncertain moments. Before finally, he lets himself relax, just a fraction: lets his forehead press more fully against Pudding's neck, lets his shoulders drop, while one arm wraps around Pudding's waist and grips gently into the fabric of her dress. Chaste, and tired, and when he takes a deep breath he thinks he catches a faintly sugared edge beneath the brandy and stew. ]

[ He doesn't say anything. Just. Accepts her touch, for now. ]

[ Pudding, too, is silent. She knows how to curl people around her finger, how to comfort while insinuating herself into the distress, pull the lead around until her mark feels pain and sorrow for her as well, tangle (false) hearts up together. ]

[ She doesn't want to do that. ]

[ All she does do is breathe out slowly when his tension sags, let herself relax against him, too. She's still holding straight, willing (wanting) to be the buoy, but her arms shift gently until the position of them is looser, still warm, comfortable for them both. Trails fingertips over his scalp, just touch, intimate but likewise chaste. ]

[ She sort of has no idea what she's doing. She doesn't know how even to have friends, much less be a good one herself. But god, she's going to try. ]

[ It's a long silence, but it's calm, and warm, and Fjord really does appreciate Pudding just. Letting him be quiet and grieve. ]

[ It takes a while longer yet, but eventually his grip tightens on the back of her dress, just a brief notice of motion, before Fjord lifts his head off her shoulder and sits up straight. His eyes are a bit red, but there's no tears on his face, nor a wet patch on Pudding's clothes. ]

Thanks, Pudding. You're... [ He takes a deep breath, and when he sighs it out it's still a little shaky, but he does seem calmer than before. ] You're a good person.

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[Audio] @fjord, Unhappy Discoveries [May 11]

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