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

[fjorgedinfire]

[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?

Comments

[flangirl]

[ 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. ]

[fjorgedinfire]

[ 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. ]

[flangirl]

[ 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. ]

[fjorgedinfire]

[ 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.