[SE] cut from marble

Maea

I feel it in the wind, my dear
The sun is gonna reappear

With the crisis taken care of, and thoroughly sobered up for her troubles, Maea was too tired to feel more than a twinge of surprise that he knew Isla. "Yeah? That's good. Give her my regards, if you do. It's been a while since I saw her."

Watching listlessly while he cleaned, eventually she retreated to the bed and slumped down to sit. Picking up the blanket she wrapped it about her shoulders, more for comfort than because she needed the added warmth. "Happy to help," she murmured. Sitting quietly for a while, she eventually sighed, rubbing at her eyes. "I'm... sorry for snapping at you."

Good days are gonna come along
Hold on, hold on!

Astaroth

// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //

Astaroth finds exhaustion lingering in his bones now too, especially as he warms by the fire, humming a note of acceptance to her comment. “I shall.” He doesn’t know what all it entails just yet, but when given the chance to he certainly would. That’s what friends did, wasn’t it? Either way, he soaks up the heat like the lizards the Ancients are, his tail flicking comfortably behind him as he settles and she settles back in the bed, and it takes just a few moments longer (enough that she starts to speak again) that Astaroth rouses himself from the warmth and comfort of the fireplace.

Adding one more log to ensure it stays hot throughout the night, he stands and slips the footstool back into its space, shaking his head to her apology. “It’s alright. I have had worse.” He offers, flashing her a more tired smile this time, before he starts to pick up the blankets to his makeshift bed, wrapping it around his middle under his arms where he might be able to leach more of the warmth from the fireplace. “Besides, it was more akin to… A lively debate than an argument.” At least, to him, which likely goes to show just how surprisingly level headed the butcher is.

// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //

Maea

I feel it in the wind, my dear
The sun is gonna reappear

"I suppose." At least he wasn't upset. Slightly more at ease, Maea let herself sink back onto the bed. Wrapped up in the blanket, she tugged a pillow down from the pile and mushed it beneath her head, doing what she had been unable to before - making herself comfortable. Maybe they should have more lively debates, if that's what it took to make her loosen up, she mused.

Gazing at the fire from under half-closed lids, a quiet settled over the room. It was different from before. Calmer, not as fraught with tension and suppressed emotion. It coaxed her into a state of relaxation, where sharing pieces of her past didn't seem as world-endingly serious.
"When I was an ascended... we didn't feel much. Physically. No sense of taste, or smell, and touch was just pressure. No heat. No cold. It made me grow numb to a lot of things. And now that all those senses are back, it's like they've been doubled in intensity." She yawned, and nestled deeper into the mattress. "I thought I was fine, but sometimes it gets overwhelming. Being around people. Being touched."

Good days are gonna come along
Hold on, hold on!

Astaroth

// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //

He wasn’t upset. If anything, he was slowly getting comfortable, curling back up into that little nest of blankets and a pillow on the floor, keeping the warmth of the fireplace aimed at the painful shoulder and letting it do its work to lull him. However, he doesn’t expect her to speak, and when she does and feels far more open about sharing, Astaroth hums a little in understanding. “That makes sense.” The fact that it had doubled in intensity, even however much that was a pain to deal with and get used to again.

But she tacks on the last bit that Asta can relate to all too much, and it’s that which he latches onto as he nestles onto the pillow. “I also don't like to be touched.” He offers a little (hopefully) helpfully. “There was a time where I was utilized only for punishment and could rarely trust myself enough to be in proximity with someone without hurting them. Danta is changing that, though.” He admits with a soft little snort, reaching up to rub at his face a little. “I’ve found that dipping one's toes in now and then makes it easier to stay in the water for longer stretches of time.” He says before he, too, yawns.

// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //

Maea

I feel it in the wind, my dear
The sun is gonna reappear

Her silence held a note of upset and anger on his behalf, one that she fought to suppress. "That's awful... Sorry you had to experience that." Chewing on her lip, she admitted, "I probably don't hate it? It's just... I want it to mean something. I can get so invested in others, but if it's one sided it only hurts. Being the only one who can't walk away takes away all the fun."

Sometimes she really envied that in people she knew. Hotaru, and Danta, and Sunjata too. Their ability to share such connections without losing pieces of themselves was something she would never understand.

"Is it working?"

Good days are gonna come along
Hold on, hold on!

Astaroth

// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //

“It’s the past.” Astaroth murmurs with all the conviction of meaning it. He isn’t going to revert, he isn’t going to let himself revert back into it. And so, he gets to experience what life would be like without someone else choosing what he believed in, and he thinks he’s better off for it.

But she explains her side and he hums a note of understanding, even as his face is half buried into the pillow, relaxing with the heat swarming through his bones. “It is.” He says a touch softer before he clears his throat to continue. “Though, I will say that a touch of love is different. I’m personally not invested in love.” It probably isn’t what she wants to hear, but its his truth. “I can visually see it between people, but I’ve never felt such a thing.” He shifts a little to roll onto his back, face tilting toward the fire. “But, it is different from a friendly touch, and that I can certainly handle.” But the one thing (aside from gore crows) that he shies away from immediately is anything sexual.

When the feeling hits, as sporadically as it does, he may indulge. But as it stands, the fact is that he doesn’t care for it at the best of times. He can be flirty and playful but with none of the follow up. And maybe that’s false advertising, but the butcher is oblivious to any moves made or how he might come off.

// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //

Maea

I feel it in the wind, my dear
The sun is gonna reappear

With a feeling of sinking into warmth, even this far from the fireplace, she has nothing to complain about. Leaving her thoughts to roam freely, she hummed in acknowledgement of his preferences. A touch of relief told her how much she had dreaded any steps in that direction from either side. It was a complication she didn't want, or need. Especially not from someone who reminded her so much of figures from her past.

"It's mostly painful," came her response, barely more than a whisper. "At least it's all I remember of it. You're not missing much." Breathing deeply as a phantom wave of old grief washed over her, she tugged the blanket higher beneath her chin.

Good days are gonna come along
Hold on, hold on!

Astaroth

// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //

Eyes shut and facing the ceiling amongst the pillows, he shifts a little bit closer to the fireplace, dipping enough that the prong of his horn clacks against the wood floor. But he pays it little mind as she speaks in quite a quiet whisper and Astaroth can’t immediately pick apart what it is she says. When he does, however, it’s with a quiet little sigh that he tucks in again with his blankets.

“It was relatively dangerous to be a male in my tribe. Unless you proved yourself, it was common for the women to get rid of you once they got what they needed.” It’s why he has zero idea who his father was, and little care to find out. There was no family coddling. And it’s part of the reason he’s so prone to being a black widow. And it’s part of the reason he simply doesn’t get involved.

// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //

Maea

I feel it in the wind, my dear
The sun is gonna reappear

Shuddering beneath the blanket, she tried to imagine living in such a way. Wondered what the women had to be like. And the men. What growing up in such a society did to the children, who had ideals and expectations shoved down their throats.
"They sound like spiders. Were the girls pressured too?" Scratching at an itch on her nose, she thought of her own upbringing.

"I... didn't get along well with people my age. One boy who realized I fancied him lured me away from a festival to his gaggle of friends... my brother had to come save me." Her tone was flat and dry, so void of emotion that it all but screamed of old pain. The kind you just didn't forget about, no matter how times changed.

Good days are gonna come along
Hold on, hold on!

Astaroth

// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //

“They were often akin to black widows.” He murmurs, before her question of the girls reaches him. Snorting lightly, he shakes his head despite how she can’t see it, his horn knocking against the floor again. “No. We didn’t want to be devoured, so, we kept our distance and found places we could be useful elsewhere. I, for example, was a scout.” It kept him far enough away, but not away enough to not inherit some of the traits.

He listens, though, understanding glimmering in the flat and tone voice that he knows she’s been dealing with that particular trauma for a while. “I’m sorry.” He offers, unsure of what else to say. It was similar enough to his own caution to being led off by women as a younger man that he can understand her hesitation.

// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //

Maea

I feel it in the wind, my dear
The sun is gonna reappear

"Were you any good at it?" There was no judgement in her tone, only curiosity. Drowsiness made it difficult to curb her tone, so it came out perhaps a bit more blunt than normal. Honest, to a fault.

The apology was met with silence. It wasn't his crime to plead forgiveness too, and by now all the perpetrators were long dead. They would have to atone in the next life, or whenever it was her time to return to Mort's halls. Until then, there was nothing to be done but grit your teeth and endure.
"It's difficult, isn't it... leaving those things behind." She sighed. "Do you ever wish... that you could just forget it all? Start over, without having to remember?"

Good days are gonna come along
Hold on, hold on!

Astaroth

// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //

“I was, actually.” It’s why he survived as long as he had with his tribe. He’d never taken any advances from any of the women and spent the majority of his time hidden away, scouting for the next meal, often leading him from town to town and far enough away that he wouldn’t have to deal with potentially facing death.

Humming a note of agreement again, Astaroth stifles another yawn before he continues. “It is for a time.” But he had been forced out, the second he’d returned from scouting to find half of his tribe fighting the other because food had been so scarce. “I do appreciate the memories to an extent. Almost as if they’re little lessons of what I can do differently. But I did get my ‘do over’ when I became Ancient.” He pauses to stifle another yawn. “I got to learn how to read and write which were not something I would have had a chance to do otherwise.”

// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //

Maea

I feel it in the wind, my dear
The sun is gonna reappear

"Yeah? I've always been terrible at sneaking... teach me sometime?" If he wanted to. If there was time. It was a bit thrilling to realize that this person might not be going anywhere. Perhaps, if she was lucky, she may have found a friend that would stick around.

Smiling quietly to herself, she hummed her understanding of his point of view. "Then I'll start over too," she decided. "New birthday, new family... and new home too, in a way." Chewing on a lip, she started saying something, then caught herself before the words could leave her tongue. Instead, she asked, "... wanna be friends?" Like a schoolyard confession, chubby hands outstretched in a pact closed by sticky sweets and grime. Or in this case, too much booze and an argument.

Good days are gonna come along
Hold on, hold on!

Astaroth

// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //

“I would be honored to.” He offers, a genuine sound in his tone despite the distance – like little sleepover confessions while he remains soaking up heat from the fireplace like a lizard and she soaks up her own in his bed. As she says that she will start over too, Astaroth nestles in more comfortably, letting a soft twist of a smile linger on his face at the idea.

One that has him opening an eye curiously at her quiet confession, and without a heartbeat of a second of pause – namely for her anxieties, he gives his answer. “I would love nothing more than to be your friend, Maea.” He drawls, pausing to stifle a yawn as he nestles in and closes his eyes again, imagining with how quiet she’s becoming that if he drifts into sleep she might not be far behind him.

// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //