[ In a lifetime at Till's side, what hasn't he done? ]
We tethered.
[ Through the phenomenon that is this place, Till has felt his heart. Ivan has no control over what he chooses to do with it next. If all that happens is they continue to live as they have, then he'll still find some twisted way to be satisfied. He is a persistent, ever resourceful parasite. ]
I don't think there's more to be done, mm? [ Ivan stares into the fire that struggles strangely to provide warmth. Even just the subtle and slow machinations of Lortel's hands do a better job than it. Would the cinders the flames pitch away even burn? He watches one take to the air. It's like it's alive, swirling around once, twice, before continuing.
For a moment he swears that it has wings. ]
What would you sug— [ It's in Lortel's hair now; it does have wings, a burning butterfly. Ivan blinks rapidly. ] —gest?
[ something is definitely happening to his cognition.
a thrill of cold panic runs through her core. though all he may get through the murmur, at best, is a faint sense of alarm. she is careful to keep it close, as far from the murmur as she can stitch under her skin. it won't do to scare him, but she's already trying to think of what she'll need to do if this gets worse. if she truly poisoned him—
this might be a bug. this might be a slightly insane, somewhat hollow bug.
but it is her bug, now. and if she hurt him, she will weep.
swallowing, she embraces him, tucking into his side, and there is protectiveness in the curl of her arms and hands. ]
Why, can't you simply tell him? How else is he to know?
By the butterfly, and by Lortel burrowing into him, though he returns the embrace with two of his arms. One of the others takes the opportunity to try to catch the cinder-turned-insect, cupping the side of Lortel's head suddenly, just above her ear. Slowly, he lifts his enclosed hand, discovering no insect, not even the light it shone with.
Nothing? ] I kissed him, once.
[ Did it crawl into her hair...? Ivan brushes it away to test his theory. ]
He's never brought it up.
[ When that doesn't work, he employs more of his hands to comb through her fire red hair with their claws. If there's anything alive in there, he intends to find it. ]
I'd assume it's because he doesn't want to talk about it, wouldn't you?
she simply lets all this happen, working doubletime at stitching her growing alarm under her skin. it's—deeply strange, but it's hardly as if he's hurting her, or himself. so, with a slow and controlled sigh, she simply tilts her head into his many small touches. it feels sort of nice, if she lets herself think about it. her eyes shut. ]
He may not know how to address it. You did say he liked that girl. Perhaps he's still figuring out his own feelings. You won't know unless you ask him. Or kiss him again, perhaps.
[ Although he formulates a response, it never occurs to him that he hasn't said it aloud.
His hands continue to move large handfuls of her hair around, becoming more urgent in their doing so. He can feel it moving like there's something in it, like that something is fleeing from his fingers faster than he can find it. The color isn't helping, nor are the flames that bring even more bright, golden light flickering across the shiny strands. Even his fingers reflect those colors as he draws them back and stares at how they've come up empty.
Everything is blending together. ]
...there's a bug.
[ He finally says. ]
...dangerous? I don't know. Should... shake it out.
Orange, yellow, red. Blinking doesn't make it go away. The room is painted and pulsing around him, almost seeming to breathe. Lortel doesn't seem alarmed though, even though she's starting to wiggle and wobble at the edges, too, like she's a burning gas, no longer solid.
When did the world change; it was frozen, and now... it's this...? ]
You're so calm, Lortel. Haha! I thought I was the best at keeping a straight face.
Hardly. You couldn't hope to challenge me on that front, [ she beams, working even harder to keep the mangled snarl of her true feelings both off her face and out of the murmur. there's just nothing behind that smile of hers.
quietly, in the back of her mind, she makes a note that she really ought to see if there's anyone in the city with genuine medical expertise. ]
It takes forever for her words to reach the part of his brain that processes them as concepts, not just sounds. Down there in that deepening pool, though, there's still logic working lazily.
Close his eyes... that's a strange suggestion, when it seems more important than ever to pay attention to their surroundings. ]
Oh... because I'm the only one seeing these things. I'm sick.
[ Staring into her eyes, which now loom large before him, he can only focus on the deep, deep of their green for so long before he notices the reflection in them, of the room warping. Silhouettes of objects grow long wisps all around the edges. Like fire. Like cilia, all moving ceaselessly.
Picture frames take root in the walls. Chairs twist into the table they're arranged around. The doorway distorts so strangely it no longer looks like a way to escape from this.
Ivan has to wonder if he's merging too, but Lortel's forehead leaned firmly against his stops him from looking down.
[ keeping the murmur clear of her ever-mounting panic while still projecting the calm she thinks he needs to feel is, honestly, one of the hardest things she's ever done. the cognitive dissonance of it threatens to make her physically ill.
nevertheless. she keeps her spine straight, and she holds him close. ]
Keep talking. I'm right here. You're safe. We're safe, right now.
[ A little overstimulated, Ivan gladly rests against the cushion Lortel offers both physically and mentally. Things only get harder to comprehend as the whole world wriggles like worms of color. It's just his eyes that are wrong, she reassures him.
Good, a good thing that it it was him, and not someone with a smaller body. It would be a bigger shock to their system... ]
Mm, I hope none of this is making it over to your mind. It's a bit much...!
[ Hahaha... ]
Why don't you have Till sketch what's left of that one so we have a record of it...?
It would be fine if it did, [ she tells him, serious as anything, ] if it would help.
[ she nods against him. the only reason she hasn't already set aside the mushroom that triggered all this is that it means she'd have to take her hands off him, and she's not willing to risk it. ]
I will. I'll pass the information on to those who'd make good use of it.
[ those who would protect theirs with the knowledge, rather than seek to harm. Megumi, she thinks. Arthur. well, she's got time to think about it. ]
[ Do her hands still have five fingers each? It's starting to feel like more, scratching against him in unknown sequences. Flies buzz behind her voice—the black kind, not the ones that drink from flowers—a thousand misshapen and miniscule throats trying to copy her words and getting them just slightly wrong.
He has to search the distortion to understand her, but he still does.
He still does.
And there's just one more thing he has to ask of her, very important. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ Creatures Till hates, the reason their lives were the way that they were. ]
I'm human; I don't own anyone.
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I do.
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it's not as if she can't relate. ]
My poor Ivan, [ she murmurs, gentle. ] Whatever will we do with you?
So? What are you going to do to win him over?
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We tethered.
[ Through the phenomenon that is this place, Till has felt his heart. Ivan has no control over what he chooses to do with it next. If all that happens is they continue to live as they have, then he'll still find some twisted way to be satisfied. He is a persistent, ever resourceful parasite. ]
I don't think there's more to be done, mm? [ Ivan stares into the fire that struggles strangely to provide warmth. Even just the subtle and slow machinations of Lortel's hands do a better job than it. Would the cinders the flames pitch away even burn? He watches one take to the air. It's like it's alive, swirling around once, twice, before continuing.
For a moment he swears that it has wings. ]
What would you sug— [ It's in Lortel's hair now; it does have wings, a burning butterfly. Ivan blinks rapidly. ] —gest?
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a thrill of cold panic runs through her core. though all he may get through the murmur, at best, is a faint sense of alarm. she is careful to keep it close, as far from the murmur as she can stitch under her skin. it won't do to scare him, but she's already trying to think of what she'll need to do if this gets worse. if she truly poisoned him—
this might be a bug. this might be a slightly insane, somewhat hollow bug.
but it is her bug, now. and if she hurt him, she will weep.
swallowing, she embraces him, tucking into his side, and there is protectiveness in the curl of her arms and hands. ]
Why, can't you simply tell him? How else is he to know?
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By the butterfly, and by Lortel burrowing into him, though he returns the embrace with two of his arms. One of the others takes the opportunity to try to catch the cinder-turned-insect, cupping the side of Lortel's head suddenly, just above her ear. Slowly, he lifts his enclosed hand, discovering no insect, not even the light it shone with.
Nothing? ] I kissed him, once.
[ Did it crawl into her hair...? Ivan brushes it away to test his theory. ]
He's never brought it up.
[ When that doesn't work, he employs more of his hands to comb through her fire red hair with their claws. If there's anything alive in there, he intends to find it. ]
I'd assume it's because he doesn't want to talk about it, wouldn't you?
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she simply lets all this happen, working doubletime at stitching her growing alarm under her skin. it's—deeply strange, but it's hardly as if he's hurting her, or himself. so, with a slow and controlled sigh, she simply tilts her head into his many small touches. it feels sort of nice, if she lets herself think about it. her eyes shut. ]
He may not know how to address it. You did say he liked that girl. Perhaps he's still figuring out his own feelings. You won't know unless you ask him. Or kiss him again, perhaps.
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His hands continue to move large handfuls of her hair around, becoming more urgent in their doing so. He can feel it moving like there's something in it, like that something is fleeing from his fingers faster than he can find it. The color isn't helping, nor are the flames that bring even more bright, golden light flickering across the shiny strands. Even his fingers reflect those colors as he draws them back and stares at how they've come up empty.
Everything is blending together. ]
...there's a bug.
[ He finally says. ]
...dangerous? I don't know. Should... shake it out.
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[ she has no idea how straightforward she should be. would denying his delusions help, or make things worse? ]
Shh, shh. [ she lifts her hands to cup his face, thumbs skating over his skin, hoping the touch will be even a little grounding. ]
I'm safe. We're safe. There's no danger. Trust me, hm?
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[ His pupils have grown large.
Orange, yellow, red. Blinking doesn't make it go away. The room is painted and pulsing around him, almost seeming to breathe. Lortel doesn't seem alarmed though, even though she's starting to wiggle and wobble at the edges, too, like she's a burning gas, no longer solid.
When did the world change; it was frozen, and now... it's this...? ]
You're so calm, Lortel. Haha! I thought I was the best at keeping a straight face.
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she is quite, quite sure. ]
Hardly. You couldn't hope to challenge me on that front, [ she beams, working even harder to keep the mangled snarl of her true feelings both off her face and out of the murmur. there's just nothing behind that smile of hers.
quietly, in the back of her mind, she makes a note that she really ought to see if there's anyone in the city with genuine medical expertise. ]
Would it help to close your eyes?
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His thoughts are slowing down.
It takes forever for her words to reach the part of his brain that processes them as concepts, not just sounds. Down there in that deepening pool, though, there's still logic working lazily.
Close his eyes... that's a strange suggestion, when it seems more important than ever to pay attention to their surroundings. ]
Oh... because I'm the only one seeing these things. I'm sick.
[ Blunted, barely there panic. ]
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manipulating her own feelings to flood the murmur on purpose... is a skill she's rapidly been honing, these last two months.
she is Lortel Kehelland. she would smile at the end of the world.
surely, she can do at least this. ]
Maybe, [ she hedges. her hands pull him down until their foreheads bump. her thumbs continue to brush, mindless and comforting, across his skin. ]
I won't let anything happen to you, Ivan. I'll make sure you're safe. You belong to me, after all.
[ it's a promise she means and a complete lie. there is no help for them.
still, she thinks. whatever it might take. ]
Just focus on me. Tell me what you see.
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Picture frames take root in the walls. Chairs twist into the table they're arranged around. The doorway distorts so strangely it no longer looks like a way to escape from this.
Ivan has to wonder if he's merging too, but Lortel's forehead leaned firmly against his stops him from looking down.
So senseless. ]
...we are just tendrils, we were always tendrils.
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nevertheless. she keeps her spine straight, and she holds him close. ]
Keep talking. I'm right here. You're safe. We're safe, right now.
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Good, a good thing that it it was him, and not someone with a smaller body. It would be a bigger shock to their system... ]
Mm, I hope none of this is making it over to your mind. It's a bit much...!
[ Hahaha... ]
Why don't you have Till sketch what's left of that one so we have a record of it...?
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[ she nods against him. the only reason she hasn't already set aside the mushroom that triggered all this is that it means she'd have to take her hands off him, and she's not willing to risk it. ]
I will. I'll pass the information on to those who'd make good use of it.
[ those who would protect theirs with the knowledge, rather than seek to harm. Megumi, she thinks. Arthur. well, she's got time to think about it. ]
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He has to search the distortion to understand her, but he still does.
He still does.
And there's just one more thing he has to ask of her, very important. ]
Don't tell him I've been doing this.
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she doesn't ask what he means. she nods against him again, so he feels her do it, and cards her fingers slowly through his hair.
shh, shh, goes the murmur. ]
I won't, Ivan. You have my word.