[RQ] Raindrops keep falling on my head

Maea

Waking from the dream
Witnessing the smoke that's rolling in

Out of all the perfect Leafchange days, and all the days of the season, it had to be this time and this place for skies to bring rain. And not the immediate torrentuous downpour that kept you indoors either; no, this had begun as a simple overcast morning, that dimmed as a soft haze of barely-even-there drizzles began to fall. By the time it really picked up, they had come too far to turn back.

Drenched, bedraggled and decidedly glum, Maea trudged along through the sodden meadows, keeping one eye on the ground and the other on her travel company. They were looking for something void tainted, preferably small enough to fit in the jar or cage or sack Maea had brought, but so far the only thing that greeted them were clusters of late blooming wildflowers and a herd of unicorns running far off in the distance. Or it could have been deer - but seeing unicorns would make even a cold, sodden and unpleasant excursion worth it. So Maea held firm in her claim that it had been unicorns, no matter if Ophelia disagreed or not.

The end is what you fear
The scent of embers lingers in the air

Ophelia

King's End is new to Ophelia, and they vacillate like a tilt-a-whirl between childlike curiosity and an urchinlike suspicion verging on paranoia. They had longed for the freedom of open gates and broken chains, but once the world beyond their farm had opened up to them, Ophelia had shrunk away in fear of what lay beyond the Hollowed Grounds. That has not changed even now. Maea's presence at their side is the only thing keeping them centered, and whenever their excitement has them bounding ahead Maea is the touch-stone to which they return when the intimidation settles back in.

With all of this to consider and contend with, the rain is the least of Ophelia's worries. The cold is uncomfortable, but it is as yet bearable with the clothes they wear. Their conversation had been pleasant so far, unicorn debate aside, but any further travel will surely only make the cold worse and so Ophelia has been utilizing their short bursts of investigational forays to search for more manageable void options.

They find one such option a few strides off the beaten path, and they flick rain off their tail like an unhappy cat as they lift their head to call out to Maea. "What about these? They're definitely infected, and it's not an animal." Keeping a daisy alive will surely be easier than an animal, and hopefully easier to harvest as well.

With your naive heart you praise God above
But how's it working for you honey? Do you feel loved?

Maea

Waking from the dream
Witnessing the smoke that's rolling in

Sometimes it was hard to remember that Ophelia was the same age as her. Maea was reminded of walking across the pasture with her brother's children, back when they were alive, and it startled her every time she realized that the pale waif was not actually a youth.
She didn't mind it, though. The freedom in Ophelia's mannerisms had Maea relaxing in response, brightening where she otherwise might be tempted to sink into brooding silence.

Coming over when her friend called, the Ancient leaned over her shoulder to peer at the find. The void aura had her grimacing with discomfort; not even flowers were allowed to remain soft, it seemed.

"It's good enough for me," she agreed. Shifting the bag from her shoulder, Maea hunched down and began rummaging through it for what they would need. "Do you prefer digging or preparing the container?"

Lining up a small hand shovel, a big jar that would have to double as a pot and her half-filled water skin, she let Phi decide what would be less unnerving.

The end is what you fear
The scent of embers lingers in the air

Ophelia

Maea could lapse into melancholy as much as she liked, Ophelia was never deterred by clouds over peoples heads, but they certainly prefer her smiling and whimsical. Even the drudgery of their task and the overbearing onslaught of rain could not keep Ophelia from basking in it.

Kneeling in the mud and rain-flattened grasses, Ophelia holds their hand out as Maea begins hunting through the supplies. "I can dig," they offer readily, their blase tone and dreamlike expression easily concealing the morbid reality that they are offering to ensure any repercussions from the flower find their way to Ophelia and not Maea.

The hand shovel is transferred over, and Ophelia sets about cutting through the thick layer of grass around it in a modest circumference, wanting to ensure as many of the roots are preserved to provide it a greater chance at survival. Ironic considering the blight the plants represent that this one specimen be granted temporary amnesty.

With your naive heart you praise God above
But how's it working for you honey? Do you feel loved?

Maea

Waking from the dream
Witnessing the smoke that's rolling in

Relief made Maea feel a stab of guilt. It was unpleasant to spend any amount of time near the plant and by rights she should have offered to do it right away - not weaseling her way out of it. A lingering look at Ophelia held no small amount of internal conflict - but it was a task that needed to be done, and the woman had been given a choice. So Maea bit her tongue, nodded and focused on her oen job of prepping the jar instead. Packing rocks and soil into the container, she added some water and held out the jar once she was finished.

"Here. Let's see how fast we can be in getting this thing back home, yeah? I don't want to spend another season in Danta's office tending to these things." Not even seeing their unflappable leader cringe over them made it worth the trouble. Though it was a silver lining.

Tugging her sleeves down over the hands, Maea offered to help dislodge a few more root strands and guide them into the container. "Are you feeling okay?" The purple sheen of the flower left a cast of color over both their pale faces that looked a bit sickly in the wan daylight. It matched the yawning queasy sensation in her gut a bit too well.

The end is what you fear
The scent of embers lingers in the air

Ophelia

The unpleasantness is undeniable, but like a morbid masochist, Ophelia marvels at it nevertheless. Senses and experiences had not been out of their reach for long, but to hold it within their grasp after the war is still novel. Perhaps that's merely because they'd been denied so many experiences in their childhood even when they'd had all their senses.

Muffling their weakened snicker by bowing over the plant and toiling away at prying it free, Ophelia swallows back the bile of nausea and doggedly continues to steady the plant as it finally lifts out of the soil. Maea's assistance with the roots ensures none catch on the lip of the container, debris and small rocks trickling out of the bottom of their ill-earned prize and making faint musical sounds against the glass that Ophelia tries to focus on. At least until Maea's voice swims through the unease and overwhelmingly sweet scent. "Nauseous, but okay," they reassure in a lackluster grunt, careful not to let the plant brush against their skin as they lower it at last into the container, snatching their hands away quickly once it's settled so Maea can close it and hopefully end its strangely unsettling effects.

With your naive heart you praise God above
But how's it working for you honey? Do you feel loved?

Maea

Waking from the dream
Witnessing the smoke that's rolling in

"You're doing good," Maea said encouragingly, in a voice that was almost convincing. Her hasty movements betrayed her own unsettled senses however, as she sifted more soil into the jar, packed it tight around the tainted roots, and added more water to keep the plant happy. Dusting dirt off her hands, she found the lid and screwed it on tight; a disgusted shudder worked its way through her and she grimaced, huffing a laugh at how ridiculously unpleasant the thing was. It was an insult to all daisies to call this one anything of the sort.

"There, done. Good job." Patting Ophelia's back, the older woman got to her feet and brushed the dirt off her clothes. "Nasty work aside, how are you feeling on your first trip outside the Grounds? Is it anything like you thought it would be?" Stuffing the tools back into the bag was a moment's work. Maea looked forward to returning to Mourn, where they would be able to get warm and dry and maybe have something to eat before catching the next skyship back home.

The end is what you fear
The scent of embers lingers in the air

Ophelia

The encouragement is admittedly helpful, though it doesn't spare Phi from having to sit back on their shins and gulp down rain and cold air once the daisy is finally out of their hands. It hadn't actively stolen the breath from their lungs or other such curses they'd seen other flora enact but they feel off all the same. Grateful to be done, too.

Leaning into Maea's hand instinctively the way they always do, Ophelia blinks raindrops off their pale lashes like tears and pats the top of the closed container in a manner that could be chastisement as easily as it could be satisfaction. "It's beautiful, but I get overwhelmed easily," they admit freely, unafraid of their own weakness. "There's a lot I don't know, and it makes me feel unsafe to not know it." At odds with the admission, their smile is serene as they tilt their head toward Maea now standing above them. Clambering up in turn, Ophelia kicks loose dirt into the hole the daisy's roots had once occupied, and their tail flicks wet and happy. "So let's get home quick, okay?" To the Grounds, yes, but also to the home-within-a-home Ophelia finally has for the first time in nearly thirty years; the one they share with Maea.

- Fin!

With your naive heart you praise God above
But how's it working for you honey? Do you feel loved?