beingdifferent | Fourth little lie ♰ 'Cause I'm half-sick of shadows, I want to see the sky

Entry tags:

Fourth little lie ♰ 'Cause I'm half-sick of shadows, I want to see the sky

[Once again it's a video today, and Esther is fresh-faced and bright-eyed, obviously not too disturbed by recent events. Her communicator is set up on her bedside table, catching the gauzy canopy of her bed behind her and allowing her to use her hands to sign.]

Excuse me. I would like to ask a favor.

Some of you are teachers for the older kids. I don't want to go to school, but is there anyone who could teach me something fun? How to make something or play something. This place can be so boring sometimes. [She quickly amends, so as not to offend anyone:] But I like the library and the art room and the kitchen. During the port I learned how to fish, and I liked that too. Sometime, I'd like to do it again.

Do any of you know how to do things like that?

[OOC: Esther is affected for the flood and has memory dates with Lua, the Emperor, Dent, and Ned, though everyone is welcome. CW: The memory threads may involve themes of violence, death, and sexual abuse, and are marked.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He's not a man known for touch. On the contrary, the Piemaker is very much against touching other people, for fear of making lasting connections, or worse.

But the sight of Esther near tears is enough to crumple his resolve. His shoulders slump, and he awkwardly extends his arms out in an offer of an embrace]

[Esther gently pushes Digby's head off of her lap and scoots across the floor to Ned, reaching small arms around his waist to squeeze him tight. She rests her head against his chest, careful to avoid his hands, and sniffles.]

Thank you.

[Setting his hands against Esther's back, the Piemaker hugs the girl tight, shutting his eyes and wishing he could pull the memories out of his head. But he can't. So he deals with it]

It's all right.

Or it's. Going to be.

It's going to be all right.

[Esther holds onto him, her grip tightening as she inhales sharply.]

Is it still scary, for you?

Yes.

But I have a, um. A high tolerance for death.

It's not the same when you're little.

[If she could've laughed she would've. As if only one of them had a high tolerance for death.]

No. I don't think it is, at all.

[Slowly, the Piemaker begins to stand, still hugging Esther. He spares a glance to Digby beside him, who wags his tail helpfully]

It's a flood. There's going to be more of it depending on how long it lasts and how close you are to other people.

[To her mild surprise, Esther holds onto him when he stands up. She doesn't even detach to pet Digby again or try to tie a ribbon in his fur, her go-to action around Ned.]

How long does it last? [Her voice is small and achingly worried. The last flood did not go well for her at all.]

[His arms wrapped around her, the Piemaker surprises himself by being so touch-oriented, especially given the nature of the flood. Still, Esther's already seen the worst of him, and there's little he can do about it except offer her comfort]

A few days. Three to four.

Once people...realize what's happening, they'll stay away from you. From everyone.

Are they all awful?

[It's the same question she asked Bond and as she repeats it she pulls back a little to look at Ned with a properly quizzical look.]

Sometimes.

Sometimes it seems that way.

It's not the flood that's horrible. It's our memories. We have more bad memories than good and that's what's making the flood so awful.

Are all your memories bad?

[She's still a little girl when she asks, still all big eyes and frowns on a little face.]

I have many bad ones.

Most of them.

Not usually the ones with Digby. And they got...better, at the end. A lot better.

But my childhood was, um. Not that happy.

If you want to talk about your memories, I'm. I'd be happy to.

No.

No, it didn't look that happy.

[She squeezes him around the waist again, despairing of the idea of killing him -- what was she thinking? If she couldn't trust Ned, nobody on earth could be trusted.]

Perhaps sometime. Not today.

Shall we make the cupcakes another day?

Not today. No. Maybe today we...take a break from getting inside people's heads.

[He gives a tired but determined nod, setting his jaw back in a grim smile. Esther is...worrying, but she needs love and attention. He can provide that much.]

I'd like that.

That sounds very nice. [Anyone getting into either of their heads could well be a recipe for disaster, at least in her estimation. When he agrees, his expression is strange somehow, and although she nods and hugs him again she takes quick notice of it.]

I would too. Maybe tomorrow?

Tomorrow. Or. When the flood wears off. Either or. We can wait for the 'or.'

Do you want, um. Help getting back to your room? I could send Digby. Like a memory barrier.

I think in this case "or" is a good idea.

How would that work?

He'll walk with you and bark at whoever gets near.

It's not a perfect plan.

You'd let me walk him? [At least one good thing will have come out of this flood.]

Keep him with you for the flood. He doesn't usually..stay with me at night, anyway. My first inmate was scared of dogs and my second inmate makes jokes about killing him. So I keep him with other people. For safety.

Are you sure? [Esther certainly wouldn't mind borrowing him but he's used to Ned, not her, and she's not sure if he'll mope or cry.] May I brush him?

I'm sure.

He loves brushing.

Thank you!

I'll send him back once I'm home.

No rush. He likes field trips.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Fourth little lie ♰ 'Cause I'm half-sick of shadows, I want to see the sky

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

Re: [spam]

[spam]

[spam]

Re: [spam]

Re: [spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]

[spam]