hadriel_logs | the dead know better

Entry tags:

lilith,
maketh tua

the dead know better

Who: Lilith (

cashlin) and Maketh (

mismanagement)
What: Awkwardness. Attempted reconciliation. Mostly awkwardness.
Where: Lilith’s apartment
When: Four days after this
Warnings: tbd

A thorough inventory of the shop containing Lilith’s bottles takes almost two days to complete, and fills up an entire notebook with lists. She’s been able to sort the bottles into identifiable types – some useful for weapons or construction, a few for drinking, and some that might have medicinal uses. For a little while she considers writing up a system to organize and identify each individual bottle – a numerical code to keep track of everything – but decides against it. That would take too long, in all likelihood.

She does test each bottle, though. It’s insane to think she wouldn’t. One mistake and someone might drink acid.

No, never. Not on her watch. She has to be more careful now. With everything.

Especially with the people here. She’s stumbled too much. It cannot happen again.

There have been – incidents. She shouldn’t have tried to give Lilith orders. It wasn’t her place, wouldn’t have worked even if they’d been back on Lothal because Lilith is many things – of this, Maketh is certain – but she is not a soldier. Will never be a soldier. Treating her as such only leads to—

Well.

Maketh stares at the bottle. It’s a squat thing, blue in color. Inside there’s a thick, rich liquor that reminds her of the drinks she had in the Academy, the ones that made you hallucinate by the end of the night. It tastes faintly of licorice. This particular bottle has been tested – just in case – but remains mostly full.

It’s the nicest liquor that Maketh could find in the shop. She thinks, perhaps, that it could work as an apology. People like gifts, don’t they? It’s not a bribe if you mean it sincerely. She intends to leave it outside Lilith’s door and then approach her later – give it a few days more to sink in. By that time, Maketh will have a script written out for the encounter. She won’t say the wrong things, their working relationship will continue without break, and these problems will cease.

Simple, Maketh thinks, and kneels to leave the bottle.

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Is any of this the right thing to do? Are these the right things to say? Maketh's breaking before her, and it's worlds and galaxies beyond what she knows how to deal with. Her entire body seems to quake even under Lilith's stabilizing grip. Slower than the first move she'd made, she takes Maketh's other arm.

For the first time in a very long time, Lilith is scared.

"You're not with them, you're in my apartment, Maketh." Her voice is low and steady, but the nervousness in her tone isn't something she can perfectly conceal. (What if she scares her off again? What if it's Maketh who storms off this time? What if whatever military nonsense that's been drilled into her brain is going to keep setting off more of these creepy mantras?)

"I don't know what kind of bullshit that Empire of yours fed you, but I already forgave you. No harm, no foul."

Lilith's grip loosens, and her hands slide slightly lower on Maketh's upper arm. Her fingers, resting just above her elbows, press tiny wrinkles in the fabric of the woman's uniform.

"You don't need to do this anymore. It's okay. You're okay."

The pressure draws her back. Maketh shivers, drawing back from the next line in the recitation - glory to the Empire and death to our enemies. Something in her brain stutters. The words don't quite make it out.

Lilith. Lilith is here, hands squeezing gently. Mussing the lines of the uniform that Maketh spent an hour ironing this morning.

Maketh blinks furiously. No crying. She will not cry, she's not weak. "I don't---what is wrong with me?"

This wasn't supposed to happen.

"Ohhh my God, you're back."

She chuckles weakly-- it's a humorless laugh, all relief and barely diffused anxiety-- and now it's Lilith leaning, just a little, on Maketh for support.

"I don't know," she replies. "You started apologizing and just... went on."

...Oh. She's still grabbing her arms. Lilith, embarrassed, allows her hands to fall back to her sides.

"Sorry," she murmurs.

Back from where? Maketh wants to ask, because she never left, she was just following protocol. Except that it doesn't work in Hadriel, she doesn't understand any of the rules anymore. It used to be so easy. Toe the line, memorize the rules, and everything would be okay. Except now she's starting to wonder if maybe the rules hadn't been the problem in the first place.

Maketh swallows hard, reaching out to put her hand awkwardly on Lilith's shoulder. "I didn't--I didn't mean to...worry you."

Something in her head malfunctioned for a moment. She forgot a rule. That's all. It's fine. Everything is fine.

She's just relieved that Maketh's done with whatever bizarre breakdown that had been. Perhaps putting all the puzzle pieces of what'd happened to her-- both in this underground hellhole and before she'd arrived-- is going to have to wait. If an apology's enough to set her off that badly, continuing to pry might hurt instead of help.

"Well... we're both-- sorry. So that's taken care of." Sorry, sorry, sorry. This is why she doesn't apologize; say it once and that stupid word starts spilling out left and right. "Don't worry about it, all right? I'm just glad you're okay now."

She smiles faintly.

"Do you need to... I dunno, sit down?" That'd be helpful, right? She's on a calming-Maketh-down winning streak now, maybe it'll hold out.

Protocol says: step back. Evaluate the situation. Determine what must be done and in what order. Break it into steps, one after the other. Just like that. Follow the logic, it does not lie. Control yourself, you are a soldier, you are not--

Stop, Maketh thinks, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes. Stop, stop, don't go there. She might have gotten lost a moment ago, let things spiral. Don't do it again. You upset Lilith. Stop that.

This shouldn't happen. Maketh doesn't know why it did. This shouldn't--this is supposed to be simple. Maketh has done penance before. Accounted for herself in front of superiors. Certainly it hurt, sometimes, but she survived each time and rose stronger because of it. This is nothing. This ought to be nothing.

"That--if you don't mind," Maketh murmurs. Sitting is a good idea. Her head is spinning. Everything feels crowded, too many thoughts pushing up against each other, demanding attention.

Lilith watches her press down on her eyes-- as if she's shoving another bizarre, reflexive speech back. Her own fear hasn't completely ebbed away, she realizes, as she hesitantly raises her hand to rest on the shoulder of this new, unfamiliar Maketh Tua.

She really shouldn't keep indulging this. She shouldn't know more; it'll only make things worse. Lilith may have gotten lucky enough to pacify her for the moment, but if it happens again... she's not sure can navigate yet another minefield successfully. It's not her place to worry, after all. It isn't in her temperament to care. Not like this.

Or it shouldn't be. Even so, she finds herself gently ushering the other woman to the nearest chair. (One of the few that's actually comfortable for a normal human to sit in for more than a few minutes, no thanks to the gods.)

"Knock yourself out. Not like I'd make you keep standing if you're not up to it." She mutters a couple words to excuse herself, and with several swift steps across the room and back, she's pulled up a stool and taken a seat, herself.

There's a chair, suddenly. Maketh lets herself be pushed into it, trying to to take comfort from the strength of Lilith's hands. The pressure is gone in an instant, anyway. She keeps her eyes closed a moment longer, pressing her nails in until it hurts.

Focus. Find the words.

"I didn't mean to upset you," Maketh says finally. "I don't--know why I did that."

Upsetting her? That's what she's the most worried about? Lilith blinks back her surprise and leans forward, elbows resting on her knees as she eyes Maketh quizzically.

"Don't mention it. I'm mostly glad that you're, you know, lucid again." Lilith presses her lips together, thinking, before she continues: "Is that-- uh-- something that tends to happen?"

It's like feeling around for a wound, almost. That's simple enough. Right?

Maketh folds her hands in her lap, careful to sit up straight. Good posture, that's important. "Sometimes," she admits. "Though...it's been, uh. Happening more. Since I came here."

It shouldn't be. There is no cause, there is nothing that cannot be survived and look, isn't she sitting here, breathing? Therefore Maketh is fine, she should be perfectly fine, this should not be happening. It should not be happening in front of other people. Especially not Lilith, who Maketh wants desperately to respect her as an equal.

No chance of that now, she thinks - angry at herself. Look what you did. You showed weakness. You've ruined this.

"...well, this place is basically trauma central," she replies, matter-of-factly. That much isn't a secret. If Lilith hadn't already seen more than her share of terrible by now, she'd have been at least a little bothered, herself. If the trauma is, indeed, the reason that Maketh's reacting like this, that is.

"D'you know what brings it on? Stress, or something? It was like you just... stopped listening to me, and started rattling stuff off."

Like some sort of Imperial machine. In the time she's known her, Maketh's been smart and savvy on her own, but never programmed, almost, as she was then. That someone like her could have that so deeply instilled in her mind... The thought of it makes her skin prickle with unease again.

"You're not dizzy or anything? You feeling okay, physically, I mean?"

Yes, well. That shouldn't matter. Trauma is a fact of life, one that's expected and prepared for. Survival ought to be the end of it. Maketh hates that it's sticking to her in this place - the look on Henry's face when he done what she'd ordered, how Chris had tried to help her in the aftermath. Even Lilith, eyes wide, hands squeezing tight on Maketh's arms. Trying to make it better.

Maketh clenches her fists tight. Forces them to relax. Sit still. No squirming. Back straight, head up, eyes forward.

"I don't have a head injury," she murmurs, though that's not what Lilith asked - not really.

Maketh clears her throat. "It's...something we learned in the Academy. To resist interrogation."

Interrogation. Damn.

"Well." Her tone's subdued. Lilith can't begin to guess at what was so important about Imperial secrets that she'd need to be completely conditioned like that. "You can relax around me. I'm sorry if I... set that off, or anything, I--"

She breaks off. She sighs, thinking: Maketh still looks unbearably stiff, as much as she wishes simply telling her to relax would actually work.

"We're friends, right? It's never gonna be an interrogation."

Maketh cracks a weak smile. "I'm meant to be apologizing. I'm afraid I'm not doing it very well."

For her behavior in the bar, for the way she snapped at Lilith and tried to give her orders. That's not what their friendship is. And it is a friendship, Maketh thinks. She hasn't had one of those for a long time. First Henry and now...

"You are my friend," she says after a moment. "I just, uh...don't think I'm well. Right now."

"I don't get a whole lot of 'em," Lilith replies. "You tried, at least. Maybe we can call this the practice round."

She can afford her that, if they really are, verbal confirmation and all, friends. Which is when she gets an idea: perhaps patience is actually the thing that she'd need most right now?

"I get it. Kind of." Lilith edges backward in her chair a little. It's an attempt to give Maketh just a little more breathing room. "So, since you say you're not well... d'you want to hang out here until you are? I can't do much more than keep you company, but it's on the table."

People here are very strange, Maketh thinks. Sometimes she finds them frustrating, but more often than not, kind. She rubs her face absently, testing to make sure she's not going to start crying. That would not do. "Well, I...that would be all right."

She hesitates. "You could try the alcohol."

In Maketh's experience, booze makes everything much easier.

Lilith smiles. Here is the safest place that Maketh can be; until she's settled a little more, she'll happily keep her here.

"Good idea."

And booze does, in fact, make things easier, even if this isn't the way she was expecting to have some of it. Lilith heads off to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of the stuff-- and, without asking, pours a second. She's back in her chair a moment later and passing Maketh a glass.

"Here. A sip might calm you down some more."

Maketh accepts the glass readily and drinks. More than a sip, really. But she doesn't tip her head back and down the whole thing like part of her - a good part of her - really wants to. She doesn't have these problems when she's drunk.

Unfortunately, she came to apologize and the words never come out quite right once the alcohol has made its rounds.

"Do you like it?" Maketh asks hopefully. It was the nicest kind she could find.

Lilith's not any more judicious with how much she takes from her own glass. The strange drink, brilliantly blue and like nothing she's ever seen, is warming: it's nearly good enough to put her completely back at ease.

"Hmm..." She feigns an expression of skepticism, then grins, wryly. "Yeah. I do." And she takes another sip.

"How long did it even take you to sort through all of that? That was a whole wall of bottles."

Maketh grins a little. It's easier to smile now. Some of the tension in her back and chest has lessened, letting her breathe. And the alcohol is good, the sort of thing she might have taken in high ranking company on Lothal. "A few hours," she admits. "But it had to be done."

"Heh. That would've taken me ages. Nice job-- I wanna check out the rest of it sometime."

She swirls her cup idly. "You're really good at the whole organization thing. It's... doing a lot of good around here."

Maketh blinks, surprised by the compliment. "It's...it was, my job."

Back on Lothal. For the Empire.

Maketh pushes that aside. "There are good people here. They deserve...well, they deserve something better than this."

"Well, your job skills're coming in handy." A feeble smile. "Now people like me aren't gonna go for drink and get a dissolved esophagus."

Speaking of drinks, she takes another sip.

"It's funny. This place sucks, but... it hasn't been all awful for me. I'm no Imperial, but for as much as they screw with us, they do at least feed us. Give us shelter.

And we're not alone."

Maketh huffs at that, almost a laugh. She can't quite manage the rest of it just yet, still feels too ragged at the edges. Too raw, not yet recovered from what just happened. She smiles, though, as best she can. Lilith is a good person, well worth knowing, and Maketh desperately wants to be seen as competent in her eyes. "Yes. I...I feel like I have a chance here. To be someone else."

Her mouth quips. "No, we're not alone. I've had enough of that."

"I say take it if you've got it," Lilith answers, smile playing at her lips. Maketh is beyond competent in Lilith's view-- maybe a little too competent, if this incident is any indication. "A chance for a fresh start doesn't come around all that often. I'd say it's worth being stuck here."

She tilts her head, considering Maketh's face.

"You feeling a little better? I think the alcohol helped."

Maketh nods, trying to smile a little. Look reassuring. "It generally does."

Alcohol is good for that. It keeps her focused and prevents the thoughts from getting too tightly wound in her skull.

"I--I am feeling better, thank you. You've been...very kind about this."

"Don't mention it. I'd have to be a real jerk to kick you out."

She knows, deep down, Maketh would've done the same for her.

"And it's not like it's a pain to have you over, or anything. Like you said: s'all right to start over. To... let people in, maybe."

"Easier said than done, I'm afraid." There's no protocol for this. Not one that Maketh knows, at least. She tries to smile for Lilith. "But I am...trying."

"Well, hey. You got me now. All this stuff aside. Let's call it a work in progress."

Lilith smiles.

"Just take a breather for now, okay? You gotta give that brain of yours a rest sometime."

Edited 2016-06-16 06:02 (UTC)

Maketh exhales shakily. "I have you."

That's something. That's just going to have to be enough for now.

"Thank you, Lilith."

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