faderift | (closed) I found my laugh and took a lifetime to perfect it

WHO: Herian, Stephen, Cosima, Kostos and Tav who was always here
WHAT: visiting a rift for Tranquility reasons (+ corgi logistics)
WHEN: gestures vaguely to make it work for everyone
WHERE: Hissing Wastes
NOTES: CW forced tranquility stuff

The Hissing Wastes, so named for the hisses of displeasure that travelers make as their boots sink and slide in the sand as they attempt to ascend the rolling dunes, and when the sunlight glares off the sand.

Herian had indicated Franklin should stay at the Gallows, however, any effort to separate him from her once preparations commenced were not particularly effective. Though she does not feel, her disapproval of his attendance and its impracticality was clear, and... yet. Once he has run enough for the day, and when the sun's height in the sky makes the sand like to burn his paws, he is hoisted into something like a backpack, content in his own personal shade. His head pokes out whenever someone drifts close enough by that he might get pats, huffing dramatically if they are focused on getting up yet another hill and dropping back into the pack.

She hasn't complained but, somehow, her affect seems even flatter when finally they make camp. The corgi, for his part, immediately bee-lines to every other member of the party to offer morale and relieve them of any treats that might be weighing them down in the journey.

The next morning, there is only a short distance to traverse to the oasis. The serenity of the location is at odds with the sickly green light and bursts of noise.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Cosima's emotions aren't uncomplicated, but genuine relief and pleasure are the unfeigned top notes. It warms her face with a smile that is, at least for now, uncomplicated.

"Hell yeah. How are you feeling about being touched right now? Is a hug on the table?" It's a genuine question, and maybe for the first time since their most recent reunion, the full complication but also the full warmth of it comes across. Cosima's not someone skilled at deception; she is here because she wants to be. Because Herian asked, and Herian is someone she values.

It's not telepathy. Herian and Cosima have certainly miscommunicated plenty without Tranquility in the mix, after all. But there's an extra channel of information available, now, and Cosima's not trying to hide how much she would like to embrace Herian, even if it's taking a backseat to what Herian needs for this specific moment.

How long this might last is uncertain. Though she knows it, it does naught to stop her relieved laugh. Relief, to feel relief is as wondrous as it is to laugh. Herian wraps Cosima in a hug, which probably serves as response enough.

"It is good to see you." Might risk being an understatement, if not for the weight of her sincerity.

That mix of scents that is inherently Cosima, the familiarity of her, even after years, it's-- a lot, with the tide of emotions washing over her being as shocking as the literal wave might be in this desert. Awareness of regrets are caught in the undertow, pulled under by the swell of joy and relief.
"Thank you." She squeezes Cosima tight. "Thank you for being my friend."

That feels important to say, urgent to express. It is a stilted dynamic, the simultaneous lack of emotion and oversharing of information; that Cosima has made the effort to despite the complexity of things, despite Herian not being herself, means more than she can grasp the words for. Friendship is a wonderful thing, and she is glad that there is a friendship to be had, or the potential to navigate to it.

"I'm always going to care about you," she says, a bit muffled as she hasn't let go yet. "Nothing's going to change that." It feels important to say now, when it's important to both of them. They'd left things so raw and sad when Herian had left Kirkwall before, and there's a relief in Cosima being able to say that she still cares as well as demonstrate it.

"Oh shit, wait, I don't know how long we've got so I promised questions first. Then we can talk longer, if it lasts." She exhales and pulls back just far enough to make eye contact without craning her neck to account for the height difference. "I know better than anyone you've been some different places with Tranquility. But today. Do you want us to pursue undoing it?"

It's not like Herian won't remember Cosima's historical position on this, but she still makes the question neutral as she can. Even if nothing is going to make Cosima forgive the people who did it against her will, there are reasons Herian might not want it undone.

A soft breath of laughter, not quite surprised because yes, it makes sense, and she's glad for Cosima's focus in this moment. She is feeling so much, her thoughts struggling to keep up with it and not follow the current.

Her movements mirror Cosima's own, accommodating distance without drawing back far, though it takes a moment to register. Pulling away from the comfort feels counterintuitive in this moment when feeling is so precious, but she had requested Cosima be an anchor in this.

"Yes." Not desperation, though the urgency and certainty of it is in her gaze as much as her voice. "Emotions, at times, seem a burden beyond our capacity, but-- we cannot be whole without them." She grasps Cosima's hands, as she remembers something. "You told me in my Tranquility that fighting in this war does not mean you do not value your life, and I struggled to comprehend without absolutes, when the very reason many of us fight is because we value the lives of ourselves and those around us."
Herian hesitates, and maybe there is desperation, now. "The longer I am Tranquil, the less weight I place on taking how I might have felt into account, and--"

Is it absurd to dread what she might become in Tranquility? That without emotion she could rationalise that to restore herself would indicate sentimentality is being prioritised over logic and duty, and refuse?

Cosima squeezes Herian's hands. "OK. Now that we know what you want while you're whole, it's a problem we can work. It's been reversed before, so we know it's possible. We won't let you drift out to sea, I promise." A metaphor that feels apt, in the moment. "And in the meantime, we'll take care of you even if you're not valuing taking care of yourself. I promise."

She doesn't quite hesitate, but her voice is pitched a bit lower as she says, "And question number two. What do you want us to do about the people who did this to you? As a division head, I'm obliged to say that we may or may not do it, but as your friend, I think what you want holds a fucking lot of weight, so." She's willing to push for this, even if she suspects she may not have to push Rowntree very hard.

"Thank you." Hard to hear if not for how closely they are standing, barely drawn back from the hug. It's too much to fathom how quickly this will end and all the uncertainty that brings. (Or that it is ensured not to bring, really.) Being able to rely on Cosima, Kostos, those others willing to help, eases the paralysis that might grip her otherwise.

Not having felt emotions for months, the turn of her mood is jarring.

"I want to kill the man who did that to my friends." Herian blinks, taken aback by her own ferocity, the speed with with rage crashed through her, attempting to catch herself. It's not unlike watching a cat struggle with over-correcting after a near fall.

That anger is at much at risk of sweeping her away as anything else, fresher pathways feeling all too vulnerable to corrosion, and she closes her eyes, exhales slowly and shakily.

"Justice sought. I've no doubt they are willing to do the same over, if they have not done it before." Another shaky breath, and she meets Cosima's gaze again. "I wish to be whole again to contribute, though-- cutting their harmful aspirations short is more important than whether I am of the number to do so."

Which is counter to what her righteous anger is telling her, but it's in its own war against every other emotion that the very thought and the memory call to the fore, and her mouth twists unhappily. Being aware of something for months is to very different to coming to terms.

"Speaking as myself and not on behalf of the organization: you should get your fucking revenge if you want it." So there's that. She presses her hand to Herian's arm, understanding, sympathy, steadying. "But I also think it's something that I wouldn't let stand even if it had happened to someone other than you. And I can't imagine Rowntree is going to object. I just ... it'll help. To be able to say what you want, while you can want things."

Her exhalation is a short, sharp breath, but her voice stays steady. "We won't hold our hand to wait for you to be well. If we have a shot at them. But if there's a way to put the blade in your hand, I'll do it. You deserve that and more."

It's never been any secret that violations of autonomy strike a particular nerve with Cosima. This one, so close to her heart, is one she's especially disinclined to forgive, even if she's not going to take a life with her own hands.

"I missed you. For what it's worth." Both while she was gone, but also ... the parts of her that aren't accessible now that she's back with Riftwatch. The wholeness of Herian, like this.

(closed) I found my laugh and took a lifetime to perfect it

You can't edit your way out of a hug though

the ideal outcome

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