(CLOSED) You wouldn't hurt them

[sprent]

WHO: Gela and you
WHAT: h/c (hafterdemon content)
WHEN: After pride, before the fall <- modplot
WHERE: Many different places
NOTES: Reference to & discussion of kidnapping, mistreatment, starvation, trauma, neglect

Starters below. Let me know if you'd like a starter!

Comments

[sprent]

The surprise is plain on her face. "Are we?"

And there's something sad in it too, something tired; yes, of course, she was gone for an entire month. New people have joined them in that time. Remembering feels like a fresh cut.

Gela, mimicking his need to do something with his hands, tucks some hair behind her ear, lingering in the motion. "Did you talk to it?"

[dissolving]

"Yeah," How’s it been this long, and he hasn’t come up with a good way to say it? "At meals. It was,"

What’s she really like?

"I liked the person it was trying to be," A small step forward - and closer to the wall. Clear an exit, if she wants it. "Funny, kind. Think a lot of us probably fall short on that, on the things we’re trying to be."

In the Chant, isn't it? The Maker's first children. No one's jealous over nothing.

"It had a good role model."

[sprent]

Gela laughs a little because she can't tell if it's an insult or compliment that he liked the demon because of who it was imitating. It feels like both.

"When they first caught us," this is not a good response to what he's said at all, but it feels like the best thing to say for some reason, "they came down into the cells quite often and dug through our minds whenever they needed... more. Or to refresh their knowledge? It worked."

She takes a piece of bread from the plate and chews a mouthful. Swallowing, says, "You're Nevarran." A fact that she knows, by his voice. "From where in Nevarra?"

[dissolving]

Cedric eases himself down to the floor, arms propped on his knees. Seems they might be here a stretch. He fishes in a pocket, comes up with a half a roll in kerchief. The distant thump of a tail down the hall: Vysvolod's smelled it.

I’m sorry, that must have been violating -

"The capital," His hand shrugs into: You know, ignoring politics, "Cumberland, right?"

It’d be decent odds even if the demon hadn’t named it. Half the country lives in Cumberland. More now,

"I haven’t been back in years." You must have felt helpless, "We were in Orlais when the Necropolis fell."

Stubby nails scratch stone. The ancient wolfhound pokes his face about corner, stares imploringly between them. He's never been fed in his whole life.

[sprent]

"Yes, Cumberland." ... It told him that? What else has it told him about Cumberland? Or anyone? Gela thinks that if she were in her right mind this would scare and concern her, but she's tired and didn't sleep well; she is hungry and there is an egg in front of her. She scoops it up with the bread.

Because she's chewing, she shakes her head. I haven't been back in years either, is what she would say, except that the dog — is it a dog? Looks like a wolf — appears suddenly from the end of the corridor, looking mournfully at the two of them and calculating: who best to beg from?

Not Gela. Please not Gela.

She doesn't freeze but she does eye it nervously while lifting her plate up, closer to herself.

[dissolving]

He’s already breaking off a piece -

Pauses, when he catches her expression. Doesn’t take much to shift his hand, and toss the whole biscuit down the hall. Vysvolod stomps after it on arthritic legs. A temporary reprieve.

"Sorry," A beat. He’s a big dog, not the strangest thing to find trouble in. Sheepishly: "Been feeding him."

Cedric rubs at his cheek. At last,

"This is weird, huh?"

[sprent]

Gela finds her voice from where it briefly tried to crawl back down her throat and into her stomach. "That's good of you."

And then she's silent again, picking at her food and seeing him rub his cheek in thought.

"It is weird."

She's not sure what's wrong with her. Thinking that makes her eyes sting suddenly and water. She sniffs and busies herself immediately with her plate again, scooping up eggs. They've gone a bit cold. "I'm usually — better than this," she explains, quiet. "At being friendly, but I'm very tired today. I'm sorry."

[dissolving]

"Hey," He shifts forward, sets a hand on the floor between them. Steady: "You don’t have to apologize."

"For being sad, or tired, or - I don’t know. Weird. Takes two for that, anyway."

Being weird. He’s been feeding the dog, he’s been leaving her food... he’ll work that one out later.

"I can stay if you want, or give you some room. But you never gotta apologize for being hurt."