sometimes the only payoff for having any faith (open - will match format)

[unfollowing]

Who: Emily and YOU!
What: After her revival and subsequent chats with housemates, Emily crashes at Chris's and tries to go about her normal life. Ofc, she's pissed. And really, really sad.
Where: Around the city (coffee cart shift), the sewing shop, and Spire 4 apartment 201
When: Nov 24-28
Warnings: Emily. Emily's attitude. Mentions of death and demonic possession. Pain and suffering. Brief eating disorder-esque thoughts in the thread with Chris. Will add more if they come up.


mornings around the city

[Despite the shitshow that was this entire last event and its aftermath, Emily is still an early riser, and she's still keeping up her end of the deal with Delight, staffing the coffee cart for the morning shift. It's more going through the motions than anything, but it's something, something that's not Matt being angry at her and the damage in the house staring at her like it's reminding her of what she did while possessed.

(No. What the demon did. It wasn't her. It's not her fault.)

It's not easy to serve coffee with a smile, but she manages, depending on the person she's making a cup for. Just don't expect her to give more than that.]


daytime in the sewing shop

[Walking into the sewing shop sends a fresh wave of angry guilt through Emily, because for a second, she thought, At least I didn't ruin all of this.

(No. At least the demon didn't ruin it. It wasn't her. It's not her fault.)

Her progress is slow, but her stitches are just as careful, sturdy, and straight. It's back to work like normal, even if it takes her a little longer now to do a quick consultation and get started on your pattern or to have a fitting with her works in progress.]


downtime/nighttime in the apartment

[Her first day here, she walked in like it's hers and claimed the spare room, slamming the door and crawling into bed to cry herself to sleep for the first time since Matt got here.

She isn't sleeping much, she isn't eating much, and she's not doing much besides her two jobs in the city. The rest of her time is spent in the room sketching idly, or in bed, or taking a shower (vain until the end, and she hates herself for it, for letting the demon in because she cares so much about how she looks).

(No. The demon forced its way in. It wasn't her. It's not her fault.)

Very close friends might have heard she's here, because she won't deny them the information if they ask her for it by text. Beyond that, neighbors might see her going to or coming from the city. And, of course, Chris gets to see her.]


wildcard

[Come at me!]

Comments

[unfollowing]

[Emily purses her lips.] Sounds right. [Because isn't that, in essence, what happened to her?

She starts and finishes a stitch in silence, inspects the fabric again. It looks good. If she keeps working them like this, it should look almost as good as new.]

That's the second time something's possessed me since I got here. [She can't say which one was worse, but--] I didn't kill anyone the first time.

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle rubs at his neck, not terribly comfortable with the thought of death. The demon's attack isn't even the closest he's come in Hadriel.]

It was not you doing the killing.

[That's an important nuance.]

[unfollowing]

It is if I let it happen, right?

[It is if she chose it. Which she didn't, but that's not necessarily what her friends think.

She laughs, the sound bitter and mirthless.]

The least I can do is fix your tabard.

[tongueamok]

[He gives Emily a sad look, knowing this kind of guilt all too well. After all, he lets his influence control people, doesn't he? He strips them of their will on purpose to save his own hide. He is no better than the monsters he so fears.

He has to remind himself that isn't true, but it's a long, arduous battle.]

You cannot change what happened, but you can make amends moving forward.

[He clears his throat just a little; it's too dry for this.]

I am only sorry I could not help you. Some clergy I am.

[unfollowing]

[Right. You can't cchange the past, just learn from it. She's heard that before, and she's told it to herself, but it doesn't make this any easier. It doesn't guarantee things between her and Matt will get any better. It doesn't guarantee anything.

It's the last thing he says that gets her attention most, gets her to stop mid-stitch and look up at him.

She doesn't know the details, just the important parts: she killed Matt, then Sam then hurt Carlisle and Glacius, then Glacius killed her. (Okay -- not her. It was the demon who killed, and the demon who hurt people, and the demon who got killed.) Her housemates said it sounded like her, kind of.

Creepy. So creepy.]

I don't really know what happened. I know I-- I know the demon hurt you. [She's holding the evidence in her hands.] And Glacius.

[God, he must hate her now. Disappointing him hurts more than she expected.]

[tongueamok]

[When she looks at him, Carlisle avoids her eyes, shame etching into his brow.]

I tried to exorcise the demon from you, and I failed.

[unfollowing]

Because it attacked you.

[Honestly, she's not surprised.]

It was really powerful, right? Sounds like it'd be a miracle if you hadn't failed.

[The word 'failed' tastes bitter on her tongue, metallic and sharp as if it cut her up on the way out. She'd failed too, after all.]

[tongueamok]

Then I should've been better.

[His nose wrinkles as his face curls with disgust.]

I was not even certain it'd work. What if I'd killed you in the process? I didn't even think of that.

[unfollowing]

And I should've been more careful.

[Emily shrugs.] Killing me worked, right? I'm me again. The demon's gone. Maybe someone should've killed me sooner.

['Me'. Was she even really present anymore, when she was possessed.]

[tongueamok]

[That's the kind of talk Carlisle doesn't like, mostly because he can empathize completely, but he doesn't argue. There's more on his mind.]

Glacius was left to do it when I fell. It wasn't his choice.

[unfollowing]

[Ah, right. See, Emily always knew she was going to fail Glacius. She knew it was going to hurt too. So this is how it wound up going down.

Goddamn.]

If it weren't for him, more people'd be dead.

[She starts another stitch, slow, thoughtful. Carlisle came here to keep her company? Bullshit. People always go around looking for something, and she suspects she knows what he wants.]

What do you want me to say, that I'm sorry? I'm sorry I made a joke that a demon took as a deal. I fucked up.

[That hurts to say. Her voice gets thick on that last sentence, but she chokes back any tears that are starting to form. She's not going to cry. That's for when she's in the spare room at Chris's, for when nobody can see.]

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle's eyes flick to her as her tone shifts, his mouth stretching into a wide frown.]

Wh—? No, that's- that's not why I'm here. I- I came to apologize myself, and... and I suppose see how you were doing. If you needed, um. Someone to talk to. Or not.

[This is so much easier when he's in a confessional and people come to him. Him going to them is just complicated.]

[unfollowing]

[There she goes again, failing someone who's a friend to her here. She's on a roll here, why stop now?

Because she's supposed to be better than this. Because this place made her see that she'd been way too much of a bitch to the only people who really cared about her back home. Because it gave her another chance with Matt and she's probably fucked it up forever, but that doesn't mean she has to throw away the rest of the good things from here.

Sighing, she shakes her head, finishes the stitch, starts another.]

Matt thinks I made a deal.

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle mentally shuffles through the names of Emily's various friends. So many from her world, and thankfully none from his.]

Your beau, correct? Why would he think that?

[unfollowing]

[Her 'beau'. Okay. She mentally corrects that to boyfriend before it derails her train of thought.]

Because it killed him. [No. No, it's so much more than that.] I mean--

[Breathe, Em.]

Because I-- before we came here, I was... I could be pretty cutthroat.

[tongueamok]

[That doesn't surprise Carlisle in the least. He smirks just a hair.]

I can only imagine.

[Annnnd then he clears his throat and looks a little sheepish for letting that escape him.]

What I mean is that he has not been here long enough to see you've changed in your time here, has he?

[unfollowing]

[You so did not just sass her.

Lucky for Carlisle, his next question completely distracts her from that.]

Two months? I-- I've been better to him. So much better. I just--

[But they never talked about anything, did they? They never talked about before, about why she had acted the way she had, about their journey to the fire tower and the argument they'd had while she dangled from it. They didn't, because Matt hasn't been through that, and Emily doesn't want to relive that without him being able to tell her his side of it.

So all he'd seen was the Emily who was a bitch to him and the Emily who suddenly adodred him. Jesus. No wonder he thought what he did about the demon.]

It wasn't enough.

[tongueamok]

You cannot expect him to accept that, and this place, and all the awfulness that comes with it in such a short time. I assume the perceived time apart has been far longer for you than it has been for him, as seems to be the norm in those brought here.

[As with Algidus, who didn't seem to realize Carlisle hadn't seen him in nearly a year. He hasn't met this Matt fellow, but if he was able to put up with Emily before, then surely he'll see what good she has done for herself in their time apart.]

But if he is as good as you believe him to be, then surely he'll come around.

[unfollowing]

[She never expected it, no. She just wanted it.

And maybe Carlisle is right. Maybe Matt will talk with Sam or one of the others -- maybe Chris, who's been here longest, who's been through so much with Emily. Maybe Chris will tell him to lay off and listen to her.

Maybe Matt doesn't need any of that. She fucked up, but she's done worse on purpose. Like the prank. Like treating Matt like shit.]

Yeah. Maybe.

[She works on another stitch, then decides the subject needs to change. She got too close to crying once already, and that's enough.]

How are your wounds?

[How's Glacius? But that she'll ask later. That's going to hurt too.]

[tongueamok]

[He'll take that iota of agreement. With Emily, he considers that a major accomplishment.

His hands remain in his lap as she asks about his wounds; though partially healed, his stiffness is probably obvious.]

Mending, thank you. The glyph took much out of me, so I had to be careful with what energy I had left. I would rather not completely exhaust myself again.

[unfollowing]

[Glyphcrafting. God. She'd forgotten about that, put it out of her mind. Her learning it is what caused all this mess, after all. She's afraid to offer, even though she's thinking about it. Can she start to redeem herself by way of the skill that brought about so much suffering in the first place?

No. She's just going to fuck up now.

But she can ask.]

Do you want me to try?

[tongueamok]

[He seems surprised she'd ask, his brow rising.]

To heal it? No, I— thank you, but healing is difficult and taxing to most, even through glyphcrafting.

[But he doesn't want to turn her down completely; it seems so rare for Emily to make a generous offer on her own.] But if you do not mind, I could use more tea. I have been meaning to bring you one of my plants as it is. I thought, um.

[The barest hint of color hits his cheeks.] I thought you could make use of it. More than other people here in town.

[unfollowing]

[Right. She'd just fuck up, is what he's saying. At least he has the good grace not to be a dick about it.

Or maybe he means it. Or maybe asking for tea is a way to soften the blow to her pride, the very thing that drew that demon to her.]

Sure.

[One of his plants? Aren't they all from his home world? He would give one to her, after everything?]

I guess, yeah. [A pause. She looks down at the tabard, at the careful stitches she's done so far. They look good, clean, smooth.] Thanks.

[tongueamok]

[The corner of his mouth curls into a faint, lopsided smile.] Of course.

[Her stitchwork shows all the dedication she puts into seemingly everything she does. Such things can be mended; one needs only to work at it. Perhaps that goes for Carlisle and the amends he must make, as well. For now, he's pleased to help where he can. After feeling so powerless, it does his worried soul good.

He slides from the chair, his hand at his middle as he stifles down a groan.]

I will leave you to this then, if you don't mind. I'll put together some notes on alchemy and a few other uses for the plant, and drop them by you.

[unfollowing]

[She may be mid-stitch when he stands, but she sees the way he holds his middle. It sends a wave of guilt through her that reminds her of one thing she wants to know.]

Yeah, that's fine, just-- [She pauses, her hands still as she tells herself to go for it.] How's Glacius?