hadriel_logs | You asked me how I'm doing

[The separation of the islands means a separation of supplies. They've hoarded plenty and Girl knows they could easily stretch out their current stash for weeks on end. But Girl's paranoid that the higher powers plan to keep them here for the long term. A little more hoarding couldn't hurt.

That's why she's riffling through the few shops around. Food's her priority, but that doesn't stop her from ducking into a shop with oddly tailored clothing. Just because a jacket has four arms doesn't mean it can't be useful. Girl shouldn't be surprised that she's not the only one with the bright idea to stock up. It's a logical move, after all. But she's so used to the people here running off idealism rather that survival that she is actually. Surprised, that is.]

Shop a few doors down the street. [She keeps near the door, hoping her voice won't startle the person currently pilfering through the shelves. Girl can't tell if it's someone she's seen before, not with the person's back to her, but she figures a little heads up is just common courtesy. Besides, she took already everything she thought the boys would like.] Still some cans of stuff there, if you're lookin' for grub.

[Having a hard time looking for food isn't something that's new to Poison, and with the boats running it still feels fairly easy to get from place to place without much trouble at all. But she's a hoarder, too, and of the opinion that it's always good to make sure that you have enough to eat if things go south.

She's thought about the girl a lot, since Fun Ghoul mentioned that she was here, but she'd decided against actually going to look for her. Poison needed some time to process how she'd deal with someone she cared so much about not remembering who she was, but when she finally comes across her, all of that mental preparation goes entirely out of the window.

That voice. She doesn't need to turn around to know it. The item she has in her hand drops to the floor and she stares at it, feeling a flush of irritation at herself heating the tips of her ears.

'Get a grip on yourself, Poison!'

Swiftly, she picks up the can and moves it from one hand to another, steeling herself before she finally turns around.

Spirits, it's her. It really is her, and Poison isn't ready.]

Uhm... Thanks.

[She's not ready, but the two felines with her have no such problems with seeing somebody that they know. A small black cat with green eyes makes its way over, mewling loudly and curling in and out of the girl's ankles. On a shelf above Poison's head, a peculiar-looking creature with eight squishy, fuzzy legs and a distinctly cat-like face starts making tentative attempts to climb down.]

Oh--... ['Sorry, they're just really friendly' she wants to say, but the words don't come out. It won't take long for the girl to realise that the little black cat winding around her legs is hers.]

[Her shoulder's jump at the unexpected thud. Girl feels a little bad for a moment. She hand't meant to startle anyone. She considers apologizing, but the thought's only half formed before the woman is talking and a cat darts over.

Girl crouches, so used to her own cat that the urge to reach down and pet is second nature. She has a handful of black fur and a smile starting on her face, beginning to think how nice it might be for her cat to have another to play with before the image sinks in. She knows those green eyes. She knows the way the cat purr when she touches the ears.

But her cat was at home, lazing in a window with all the doors shut.

Girl jumps to her feet like she's been burned. Her eyes flicker to the thing on the shelf. She can't find the words for a moment, looking back from the creatures to the woman who's looking at her with those doe eyes.]

Why do you have my cat? [It's the first thing that she blurts out, accusation hurled at the woman in front of her. Had she broken into their home, taken more than just Girl's pet? A stab of anger hits her stomach.] He's not your's.

[She swoops down to pick up the cat, half afraid the woman might try to take him again.]

How'd you get into our place to take 'im?

Edited 2018-07-11 03:50 (UTC)

[She has to catch poor Anderson before he does himself some damage trying to climb down to the floor, and she holds the creature close to her chest while his fuzzy legs wrap around her wrists and forearms.

The cat by Girl's feet squirms on being picked up - maybe not the reaction she would have expected.]

I didn't take him, he arrived with me. [This is going to be a hard one to explain, but she immediately bristles against the accusations thrown her way. That cat had been all she had left of one of her closest friends, and to be accused of stealing--]

From the place I was before here. A place where I met you.

[The phrasing could be gentler. There were so many different, better ways she would have liked this meeting to go.]

I'm not a thief.

[She holds tighter than she knows she should. Her cat is usually pliant enough, willing to put up with her manhandling. She's not used to him squirming so much without reason, without some other tension floating in the air. Girl finds her grip pulling inward instead of letting go.

Something's not right. It's the same ugly feeling she got when she first saw Ghoul. A shaking box set on a corner, that split second before it decides which way to fall.]

I don't know you.

[She's seen a thousand faces. Most of them blend together, runners who's masks she forgets once their out of sight and Dracs who's masks haunt her dreams at night. But the people who made an impression on her, she remembers. The people who earned her trust, they left their mark on her.

She wouldn't lose someone who she cared enough about to give the last thing living thing she had left to love. She couldn't.

But so many before her had, hadn't they?]

I don't remember seein' you in the Zones. I don't remember leavin' him with you.

[She doesn't know her, and there's no way she can know how it feels like a knife straight through Poison's heart (and Poison would know, having been stabbed before).

The young woman chews her lip for a moment, willing herself to approach this calmly. It would be all too easy to lose control of the situation, and to ensure that this girl never speaks to her again.]

It wasn't in the Zones. It was another place like this... but worse. [So much worse. Poison hasn't yet come down from the screeching high of constantly fearing for her life, but she'll enjoy it far more when she does. Such things take time.]

I know about you. I know about where you're from, the men who raised you, the City and the Zones. [An edge of desperation creeps into her voice. She needs her to believe her, even if she doesn't remember her.]

I know you don't have a name. That they never gave you one.

[The cat's claws are sinking into her bare arms. The points of pain ground her when the world feels like it's trying to spin out.

She doesn't remember another place. She doesn't remember a world were things could possibly be worse. But she's seen people come and go and come back here. but she's seen what these gods are capable of.

And she remembers the masks. The pills. How easily chunks of time and personality could be stolen with the right combination of chemicals. How Ghoul had looked when she first told him about a future he would die before experiencing. How blank her mother's eyes had been when they first meet her own.]

You know my crew?

[Her stomach lurches. In the back of her mind, the whisper of 'maybe she's right' start. She'd seen the dead rise back to life here. What else could surprise her?]

Who are you? Where was it we met? I don't-[She doesn't understand, doesn't know if she wants to. The idea of lost memories is visceral and frightening.] How can you know me, if I don't remember you?

Knew of them.

[Never really met them... She feels like she's forgetting something, there, but she dismisses it. There is something else to concentrate on right now.]

It was somewhere that wasn't here, but... like here. A place where people from different Realms would be drawn together. [That, at least, is a topic that she can speak on with some authority. Poison presses her lips together.]

Sometimes people would leave, then come back and not remember being there before. That-- That has to be it.

[That's as much as anyone else could say. Anywhere but here, Girl knows that her family is gone. The chances of anyone knowing her like this while knowing them would be too slim a thing to hope for.

Even as hard a time as she's having believing this woman, Girl finds herself a little disappointed.]

You're sayin' there's more places like this? [With all the other worlds she's heard about, it doesn't seem beyond the realm of possibility. But it's frightening. Another her being out there, another world that could take her. She doesn't want to think about it.

Girl shakes her head, small and jerky movements as she steps back.]

I don't remember you. [She's not sure if she's agreeing with what the woman is saying or if she's just stuck on a loop.] Who are you?

I think there are many more places like this. This one is... better than the last one I was in. [Spirits, she'd never thought of spending the rest of her life moving from place to place, through bubbles and realms like this one. If it could even be called the rest of her life, when it's barely a life at all.

The other girl isn't the only one who doesn't really want to think about it.

She doesn't move forward, wringing her hands subtly in front of her as she watches the cat in Girl's arms continue to squirm slightly.]

My name is Poison. We were-- We were good friends. Ghoul told me you were here. This isn't how I would have liked our meeting to go.

What do you mean? How's this better?

[It sounds pettish, even to her own ears. She could count the ways this place was better than her own home. One, two, three. The men here and breathing when the laws of death said they had no right to. How could she really doubt when someone else called this place better?

But Girl doesn't back from her words, only winces around them. Or maybe it's the claws digging into her arms. She can feel the little drips of blood from the cat's scratching. It hurts enough that she loosens her grip.

It hurts more that the cat scrambles away instead of staying near.]

Ghoul knows about this?

[That's another curl of ice in her stomach. Did he really think it was best not to warn her? The thought throws her off enough that she doesn't question the name.]

You were plannin' to find me.

I haven't died yet, for one thing. [She doesn't mean for it to come out as sharply as it does, but that's the fact of the matter. Hadriel hasn't killed her yet, and how many times has she died before? Three? Four? More than that? She could have forgotten a time or two, for all she knows.]

Ghoul doesn't know anything. He just talked about you. [And Poison had said nothing, not wanting to involve anybody in her own personal affairs. It's always been that way, with her.]

I worked out the rest on my own, and yes, I was planning to find you. Eventually.

Died. [The word bubbles out with a sharp edge. Death is something Girl feels she's heard far too much about and here she is hearing it again.] You're dead?

[And wouldn't that be familiar? Someone she's supposed to know, risen from the dead because of this place. It's becoming a strange trend.

She let's out a breath she didn't realize she was holding when Poison confirms about Ghoul. It's a relief that to know he isn't keeping secrets from her. But that relief is small compared to how overwhelming she finds the rest of the conversation.]

Why? I mean, what-[She stops, gaze dropped to the cat that's backed away from her and arms wrapped around her stomach. Everything feels off balanced and she holds onto her own skin like it will keep her from toppling over.] What did you want from me? Who am I for you?

I'm not dead. I've just... died before. It's hard to explain.

[Her heart still beats, and it still hurts to be faced with this again. How many times now has she come face to face with a close friend only to see a total lack of recognition in their eyes? Too many, and she thought she might have grown used to the sting of it, but she hasn't.]

I don't... want anything from you. We were friends. Very good friends.

[More than very good friends, but better to leave it at that for now. She looks unsettled enough as it is and Poison is quite sure that this abrupt meeting may have ruined anything she might have tried to build with this girl.]

If we could be friends again... I'd like that very much.

It’s not that hard.

[She grimaces around the words. It’s more than she means to say, but no less true. And maybe not a surprise, if this woman really is her friend. Girl knows all to well what it is to have died but not be dead.]

I-

[She hesitates. She’s had so few friends. It’s something she’s wanted since she found herself alone in the world. But it’s a lot. This is a lot. Girl’s head is swimming; information overload, all systems overheated. It’s hard to think past the recognition in the woman’s eyes. Past the cat that didn’t want her frightened touch. Past her own fear.]

I don’t know. I need to think. [Its an honest answer at least.] Can you give me some time?

Of course.

[It hasn't been the best of meetings, but it could have been so much worse. Poison is at least reassured by that fact, and though there are a hundred things she wants to say she bites them back and pushes them down deep, keeping them for another day.

Instead, she nods.]

All the time you need.

[There's a thank you on the tip of her tongue, something in the woman's manner than makes her feel like she should be gracious. But Girl holds back on her manners, unsure what she's really thanking the woman for.

She nods back, staring at Poison for several more moments. Her gaze flickers down to the cat that's not her cat, then back up to the woman's solemn eyes. She feels bad, a little guilty, and she's not sure why. Girl does know she doesn't like it. She'd rather be around her people, hiding from the knot in her stomach.]

Okay.

[With that she backs out of the store, waiting until she's far from the door to bolt towards the residential district.]

[The beach is as awful as she imagined. The salty smell clings to every breeze. The sand's wet instead of the dry heat she's used to. The water reflects light bright enough to make it hard to see whenever she tries to look out at the waves. Even Ghoul's acting brave enough to try swimming in it and she can admit she feels a little called out to at least try standing near it.

Her verdict? Still terrible. And she's still annoyed with everyone who voted for their little island paradise.

Speaking of which-]

Edgar?

[She practically shouts the name. Girl's not willing to go far enough into the sand to speak at a normal tone. The shout still manages to carry her confusion, like she can't imagine why someone she actually likes would subject themselves to the experience of a beach.

Ghoul notwithstanding, of course.]

[For what it's worth, Edgar didn't vote for the beach or ocean when the gods asked about their opinion. He had been in favor of cold and ice, in fact, despite how much people warned against it. Well, the islands are far from the paradise shores that people were expecting. Serves them right.

So, he wasn't exactly fan of their new location. Small and closed environments didn't really do a thing for him, especially in long term. But still, he didn't mind the beach that much and spent quite lot of time there. And his interest for it only grew after the Null posted on the network about missing god somewhere underwater.

He's standing in the water, not too far from the shore where his shoes and socks lie. His eyes are set on the horizon, as if he was seeing something there in the distance, when he hears his name being called out. He turns his head to look over his shoulder, a smile appearing on his face.]

Hi! Came for a swim?

[Her nose wrinkles and she crosses her arms across her chest. Seeing him in the water seems weird, because the water itself still strikes her as weird. Even as close to the shore as he is, she can't see the appeal.

She does come closer. Girl likes shouting just fine, but she's not sure she wants him to catch on just how uncomfortable she is. That she stands feet away still from where his things lie must give it away.]

No. I'm not gettin' that. What are you even doin' in it? You know what's in the sea?

[Girl doesn't.]

[Laughing, Edgar looks down at his feet and then the water around him.]

Fish? Maybe crabs and sea urchin? Rocks and seaweed? [He takes a step backwards, right away from the shore and makes a small twirl in the water while trying to see if there was anything near his feet before he looks up to face her again.]

I found a seashell earlier. Why? Are you scared?

No! [She says it quick and petulant. The high pitch her voice undertakes isn't convincing, even to her own ears.]

Maybe. We don't got this much water back home. It looks dangerous. You could drown out there.

[Well, that makes sense. She used to live in a desert after all, right? It's no surprising to hear if she hasn't seen a large body of water like this before. But still, he can't stop laughing at her bewilderment especially when the water is barely touching his calves.]

Hah, really? C'mon, it's safe. Take your shoes off and dip your feet in. Water is really refreshing.

[She shakes her head.]

No. It's- people drown in that stuff. [She does come a little closer to the shore line, though she frowns at the lapping waves.] Doesn't seem natural. I don't have gills, you know. Didn't think you did either.

What do I need gills for when there is so much air to breathe?!

[He spreads his arms to his sides to put more power his words. He makes a twirl in a water while also moving backwards, towards deeper water. The fabric on his trousers are already getting wet and he doesn't seem to mind it in the least. He moves further away from the shore until he's waist-deep in the water.]

It feels nice, I assure you! [He's shouting at this point] Why don't you come and enjoy it. There's nothing to be afraid of-- [And then before he could even finish his sentence Edgar falls. He falls backwards into the water as if he had just tripped or something. But instead of resurfacing he stays under the water, completely out of Girl's sight. There's not even sign of bubbles on the spot where he fell.]

[She jumps when he falls, the pout on her face only deepening. There's a sneer ready in her voice for when she expects to see him pop up. What a what to prove her point. She feels a little smug about it.

But he doesn't pop up. Seconds pass and drag, and he stays under water.

An uneasy feeling settles in her stomach.]

Edgar? [She starts, voice hesitant before it grows into a worried shout.] Edgar? Hey, what happened? Edgar?

[She comes to the edge of the water, trying to find him from sight alone. Something chokes in her chest. It's the same ugly feeling she'd get when Kobra didn't come home from a run before night hit, that ice-in-veins feeling that something had went horribly wrong.

She takes a step into the waves, trying to fight the rising panic as she feels water seep into her beat up boots.]

Fuck. Edgar!

[He stays under the water for some time, longer than regular human should. At first he stays in the same spot but once the sounds of her muffled voice reaches his ears he starts to move, slowly moving towards the shore. He partly swims and partly crawls along the ground. When the water gets low enough he allows his back to rise to surface, making sure to keep his face hidden.

He's really putting up a show for her.

He waits a moment and another before springing up from the water to his knees, faking a loud breath as if he had been holding it in for the whole time. Water splashes around him, few drops undoubtedly reaching the Girl.]

H-hah. Haahh, hah. [At first he's only gasping for air but it soon turns into a laughter. He pushes his wet dark curls back, away from his eyes and keeps laughing as if he had just heard the best joke in the world.]

[Panic turns to dread, sinking in her stomach like a stone. In the past few months of being here, she's gotten used to the lack of death in the air. Girl had almost forgotten the bitter feeling of having a name and story she'd need to carry as a memory.

She crouches to put her hands in the water to feel for a body. Part of her mind is already gone, half writing a letter for a Witch's box that isn't here and wondering if Jet could grow roses for a grave.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when Edgar gasps. Girl trips, falling over to sit in the shallow water. Her eyes are wide, one hand falling to her side for a weapon she's not had in months.]

Edg-

[Girl frowns as he starts to laugh. She doesn't really get what's happening.]

What? You fell. Are you okay?

[Unfortunately the real depth of Girl's shock completely escapes from Edgar. All he wanted to do is play a little prank on her which, from his point of view, succeeded. He continues to laugh while swiping the water away from his face.]

Huh? Ah, well. [He pulls some seaweed out of his hair and throws it back to the sea. He then returns to look at her, the corners of his lips reaching his eyes.]

I got you to come into the water.

[The frown deeps as his good mood continues. Her confusion settles into a sharp pang of hurt. She's not entirely sure what's happening but with the initial panic fading, Girl's starting to feel the laughter is pointed.]

I thought you drowned. [Her voice is small, still a little frightened.] I thought you were gonna die.

Hey. [The laughter calms down eventually when her voice and body language turns into small and more withdrawn. With his hand still in his hair and cheery smile on his lips, Edgar leans forward and seeks for her gaze.]

It was a joke. [His voice is sounding almost soothing as he speaks.] You were so serious that I just had to do it. But there is nothing in the water that could kill me. Otherwise I wouldn't have gotten in it.

Edited 2018-08-18 22:04 (UTC)

[She pushes up from the water with a huff, shaking for a moment like a belligerent dog. Girl starts trudging towards the shore. The bottom of her tank top is rung between her hands and she grimaces at the squish of water in her boots.

She doesn't meet his gaze.]

It's not a good joke. You were under a long time. Water can kill you. And we don't even know where we are. They've fucked with out water before. They could have put something in the ocean here to hurt people. I thought...

[She looks back to him, still frowning.]

[Edgar watches her get up and walking away, waiting patiently in the water for a bit before standing up himself. It's interesting to see her like this torn between anger, worry by the aftershocks of initial panic. She always acts so tough and independent, like a flower blooming in desert -- numb and used to the pain and hardships of life.

With slow and careful movements, almost as if he was approaching a stressed wild animal rather than a human girl, Edgar catches up on her and offers her a gentle smile.]

But I know. It takes much more than water and some half baked Gods to kill me. Trust me.

[He can tell that her reaction is a sincere one. No one can fake the lost and baffled expression and mixture of emotions that she's showing. Guess his little prank hit on something he didn't know about. Of course the Girl had showed signs of this soft and quiet side of her before but he never expected her to show them for his sake like this.]

I didn't think you'd worry about me.

[It's a smart approach. Girl was raised more animal than human, feels like it after all her time in the wild. She bristles instinctively, like she might turn and run. But Girl stays still, swaying in place until he's close.

There's an argument ready on her lips. That confidence is dangerous, she wants to say. Fate has a way of taking those kind of statements and providing the worst kind of irony, she wants to say.

Instead she turns her face, hiding the faint blush rising from her neck.]

'course I would. We've been 'round each other a while now. It's normal to worry.

You have a big heart, then

[He says, both his expression and voice softening, his whole posture gaining more tenderness. It's not a tone he uses with everyone. Edgar is good at faking emotions and pretending to be something that he isn't. But this time he is being sincere, which is something he usually saves for soft and yet dire moments and for those few who really matter.

She might not be one of them but that doesn't mean he's not grateful for her worry.

The quiet softness doesn't last long and his lips curls into a teasing grin. ]

Do you worry for everyone in this place or am I special?

[She shrugs. The color rises higher from her neck, dusting across her cheeks. The praise makes her want to hide. Girl's still unused to hearing it from anyone who isn't her family. She tucks into her drawn in shoulders, rubbing her cheek to try to cool the heat on her face with her palm.]

It's just natural to worry 'bout people you know. Lot of ways people can go ghost, you know? Don't go gettin' cocky.

[It's not a yes or no. The truth would be yes, he's special. If only because he's one of the few she's talked to and one of the few she's let herself be friendly with. Girl's still to wary of people to go out and make a connection with just anyone in town.]

Edited 2018-09-11 00:27 (UTC)

[The more she tries to hide away her embarrassment the more clear it becomes to Edgar's eyes. He keeps grinning as the red spreads over her face. Then, with a quick but elegant cat-like move, he takes steps towards her and invades her space so that he can feel the warmth radiating from her against his own, cold face.

The tease shifts and turns into more playful smirk, a faint gleam of dare shining from his half-shut eyes. This is a new territory for him and he's doing his best to imitate Allan. The other boy was the one who always chased after skirts and sought new warm lips to kiss.]

You jumped into cold and unknown water to save me. I'd say it's pretty special to put yourself in danger for someone else.

[Then he leans in, close enough that the water drips from his wet curls on her. His grin widens and turns into almost predatory, showing some of his teeth for a second. Were they sharper than usually? Maybe.

But then he pulls away. His steps are so light that it looks like he's skipping back towards the waterline where his shoes and socks lie. Then, he starts to stretch his limbs out a bit before setting down.]

Come and sit with me. The sun feels nice.

[Girl's frown returns, deepening when he gets into her face. It's not embarrassment, though she still is. Girl's confused. People don't usually invaded her space, not with a smile like that. People get close to yell or pull pranks. She can't imagine why Edgar would do either in this circumstance.

She opens her mouth to protest. Special isn't the word she'd used. No one should just stand by while someone else is dying. Cherri wouldn't stand for something like that and part of her is still trying to follow in his footsteps. But Edgar pulls away quickly enough, skipping and smiling strangely.

Why did he remind her of the Drac masks all of a sudden?]

We're wet. The sand's gonna stick like last night's glitter.

[She's pouting but she still walks over to him, arms crossed over her chest when she plops down. She's deflating like a balloon, too tired to keep arguing.]

And here I thought you'd be the last person to complain about getting dirty.

[Or so her personal hygiene had led him to believe. She didn't smell like roses to be exact.

He sneers a little and stretches his legs out in the sand, wiggling his toes a bit as he enjoys the sunlight. Even if the warmness isn't enough to reach the coldness in his dead body. He allows a moment of silence to land upon them as they sit and bask in the sun.

After a moment he hums and pushes some wet hairs off his face.]

It makes me happy, you know. That you worried about me. You might act like it's no big deal but it is. [The people in Hadriel have a tight community, that is true. But Edgar has made sure to keep himself distant from it and not to form any 'unnecessary' bonds with others. But still, it was always nice to see that he had managed to touch someone.]

I like you too.

I don't care 'bout gettin' dirty. I care 'bout how much it's gonna itch and shit later. [She might have spent her whole life in the desert, but that doesn't mean she doesn't get irritated by sand.] Sand gets everywhere.

[She pulls her knees to her chest when she sits. It's a position that will do little to dry her out, but there's still a hint of embarrassment lingering over her and keeping her body language closed in. Her shoulders relax the longer the silence stretches between them.

Her eyes are halfway to closed when he chimes back in, but his wording makes her squeeze them shut. That earnest tone is surprising, shades of both the familiar and unfamiliar. It reminds her a little of D's steadiness, or Jet's knack for seeing through any bullshit she could through at him.

She thinks of being defensive. Shrug it off, call him out for being sappy. But if he's going to imitate that sort of honest her idols held, she might as well respond in turn.]

I don't wanna watch someone else die. And I like you better alive than ghosted. [An explanation and acknowledgement rolled into one.] You're fun, you're weird. So, there you go.

Hah! [The light and joyful laughter returns to him. Corners of his lips curls up, reaching for his eyes, as he keeps laughing -- sounding very young and boyish.]

Well thank you. [He leans a little bit closer, with amused and friendly jeer on his face.] But I don't think you're one to call others weird. I've never met anyone like you before.

You asked me how I'm doing

Poison

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Edgar

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