There's usually a rush on Town Hall at the beginning of the month as everyone turns in their community surveys, so Gaeta waits a few days before he heads over. Less time standing in line; more time to navigate the absolute mess littering... well, everything, since the flood. He doesn't even know where to start with his apartment. There's only so much Tayrey's borrowed tools can fix, and he's always been better at code and computers than hammering a nail.
But -- that's for later. Paperwork first. He elbows open the door and starts to hobble in, only realizing once he's halfway to the front desk that he recognizes the woman behind it.
....well. That's, um.
He stops in his tracks for a couple seconds. When he picks up his stride again, it's slower than before; he can't stop staring.
Unlike the cuts the bugs left along his arms, the scar on his neck hasn't faded since he came back.
But -- that's for later. Paperwork first. He elbows open the door and starts to hobble in, only realizing once he's halfway to the front desk that he recognizes the woman behind it.
....well. That's, um.
He stops in his tracks for a couple seconds. When he picks up his stride again, it's slower than before; he can't stop staring.
Unlike the cuts the bugs left along his arms, the scar on his neck hasn't faded since he came back.
She hears the door open, but her hands are carrying files that she turns to put down before turning to greet whoever it is -
And also stopping in place. To her credit, she looks taken aback, before it smooths itself into a wary resolve. This was inevitable, since his return, since she hadn't thought to seek him out, discuss things. That mark across his neck - at the least, she thinks, it's neat.
"...How can I help you?"
Not the affected tones of caring. Just the normalcy of two strangers when one has to be professional. If he's showed up to talk about what happened, then so he has. If he's got paperwork, she can handle that too.
And also stopping in place. To her credit, she looks taken aback, before it smooths itself into a wary resolve. This was inevitable, since his return, since she hadn't thought to seek him out, discuss things. That mark across his neck - at the least, she thinks, it's neat.
"...How can I help you?"
Not the affected tones of caring. Just the normalcy of two strangers when one has to be professional. If he's showed up to talk about what happened, then so he has. If he's got paperwork, she can handle that too.
Her tone makes it easier. No pretending this is anything other than a quick transactional meeting. Their encounter can be exactly as it appears on the surface.
"Just dropping off my survey," he says, brief, as he balances himself against the desk to fish it out of his satchel. He passes it over. FELIX J. GAETA, the survey reads along the top in handwriting so neat it practically looks typed. Considering the whole town was underwater for half the month, he didn't have much to say, but for the sake of his stipend he gamely did his best.
The extremely, extremely catty part of him has the urge to ask for a pen so he can add, overall, satisfactory except for getting my throat cut, but -- what would be the point besides needless antagonism he doesn't even truly feel? Eventually, everyone figured out that the only way to escape the hive was by dying. This woman just figured it out sooner and helped him along.
(Dee would've thought it was hilarious, though.)
"Just dropping off my survey," he says, brief, as he balances himself against the desk to fish it out of his satchel. He passes it over. FELIX J. GAETA, the survey reads along the top in handwriting so neat it practically looks typed. Considering the whole town was underwater for half the month, he didn't have much to say, but for the sake of his stipend he gamely did his best.
The extremely, extremely catty part of him has the urge to ask for a pen so he can add, overall, satisfactory except for getting my throat cut, but -- what would be the point besides needless antagonism he doesn't even truly feel? Eventually, everyone figured out that the only way to escape the hive was by dying. This woman just figured it out sooner and helped him along.
(Dee would've thought it was hilarious, though.)
Taking the paper from him, she notes the name, commits it to memory. Gaeta, huh - Zivia or someone else must have handled his initial paperwork. That would explain why the name doesn't ring any bells. But an answered file means things to mark down, and that she can do almost automatically.
"Are you feeling better now?"
Despite everything, the question is genuine. Perhaps that makes it worse, that after everything, she wants to know that.
"Side effects? Apart from...?" Fever awkwardly gestures at her neck.
"Are you feeling better now?"
Despite everything, the question is genuine. Perhaps that makes it worse, that after everything, she wants to know that.
"Side effects? Apart from...?" Fever awkwardly gestures at her neck.
Involuntarily, Gaeta makes a strangled noise that sounds like a hysterical laugh caught halfway up his throat. It blends into a cough he stifles against his shoulder. This is a level of surreal he did not anticipate when he stepped off the ferry, which is saying a lot considering all the ghosts, demons, gods, and... whatever.
"No, aside from having to get the bugs bled out of me and spending a whole day as a ghost, I'm fine," he says. Dry as it might be, he can't muster up any real rancor. "At least floating around the ship was easier than walking."
"No, aside from having to get the bugs bled out of me and spending a whole day as a ghost, I'm fine," he says. Dry as it might be, he can't muster up any real rancor. "At least floating around the ship was easier than walking."
Tayrey arranged to meet Fever on the outskirts of the forest, because it's as good and as private a place as any. The last thing she wants while they do this is onlookers, whether inquisitive locals or people who might know who they're doing this for, and interrupt.
She's wearing her usual uniform. Ordinarily the remembrance of the dead would merit more formality, but she doesn't have anything more formal, won't be able to afford anything more formal for quite some time (an uncomfortable thought) and there's not much about this that's conventional anyway. There are no bodies. They're in a forest, on a planet equally alien to the two survivors and the comrades they're mourning.
When she sights Fever, she sets down her backpack and waves. 'Peace and prosperity!' she calls over - and then, when Fever draws nearer: 'I... uh, I should say that I haven't actually done this before. I've seen it done. And I know what a couple of them wanted.' She should have asked every single one. They were her team. Too late for that now.
She's wearing her usual uniform. Ordinarily the remembrance of the dead would merit more formality, but she doesn't have anything more formal, won't be able to afford anything more formal for quite some time (an uncomfortable thought) and there's not much about this that's conventional anyway. There are no bodies. They're in a forest, on a planet equally alien to the two survivors and the comrades they're mourning.
When she sights Fever, she sets down her backpack and waves. 'Peace and prosperity!' she calls over - and then, when Fever draws nearer: 'I... uh, I should say that I haven't actually done this before. I've seen it done. And I know what a couple of them wanted.' She should have asked every single one. They were her team. Too late for that now.
"Yeah. That's good."
It might be surreal, but it's what one has to handle when the dead don't stay down. She doesn't know how to navigate this conversation any more than he does, and it's why she just ends up blurting out her next sentences.
"Look, just to clear the air, I don't have some particular grudge against you or anything. Weird as it sounds, I really did want to help you."
He'd just been the confirmation that death was a cure. And at the same time, an utter indulgence that had been one bite to something starving.
It might be surreal, but it's what one has to handle when the dead don't stay down. She doesn't know how to navigate this conversation any more than he does, and it's why she just ends up blurting out her next sentences.
"Look, just to clear the air, I don't have some particular grudge against you or anything. Weird as it sounds, I really did want to help you."
He'd just been the confirmation that death was a cure. And at the same time, an utter indulgence that had been one bite to something starving.
It's on his way back from the police station to the Oak and Iron that Leon runs into Fever again, noticing the distinctive shock of white hair as he passes by. Normally he might just nod a greeting and maybe exchange a few brief pleasantries, but after their extended stay aboard the Stag Beetle he's been feeling more than a little shaken up, and seeing a familiar face can sometimes help settle him.
He waves her down, closing the distance between them.
"Hey! It's been a bit. How're you holding up?"
He waves her down, closing the distance between them.
"Hey! It's been a bit. How're you holding up?"
"Peace and prosperity," gets called back with a return wave. Fever's also about as formal as she can get - which isn't much, but they make do with what they have. This whole ceremony, if one calls it that, is them just figuring out something that for all the gaps in it, the sentiment will make up for it. Still, something feels odd if she thinks about it in the sense of mourning them, so she'll settle on honoring what they did, and remembering them.
"You've got a better idea than me, then. The most I managed to sort out in my memories is that there's so many different things one could do - but what I chose to involve, I think they'll approve of." A pause. "What did you bring with you?"
"You've got a better idea than me, then. The most I managed to sort out in my memories is that there's so many different things one could do - but what I chose to involve, I think they'll approve of." A pause. "What did you bring with you?"
"Leon! Good to see you again."
It's been a lot of busy work at Town Hall, but the good news is that there's less to redo than she'd expected. Things in cabinets seem pretty untouched by the floods, and instead it's just mostly cleaning.
"I'm doing well enough. Better now that we're back here. And what about you?"
It's been a lot of busy work at Town Hall, but the good news is that there's less to redo than she'd expected. Things in cabinets seem pretty untouched by the floods, and instead it's just mostly cleaning.
"I'm doing well enough. Better now that we're back here. And what about you?"
Gaeta pauses, then sighs. His shoulders slump an inch.
"Yeah." A placeholder acknowledgement as he tries to sort his thoughts. "I, ah. I wish there had been another way to pull us out of the hive. I'm glad you figured it out, gods I'm glad, if I were still on that ship I..."
Well, he wouldn't have done anything, he knows. That was the point of the hive. He would have been a good little worker, a steadfast soldier, unable to comprehend anything was amiss. Gaeta swallows; rubs his forehead.
"I don't like being tricked," he says finally. "I don't know what else you could have done, but it's -- been a lot to process."
"Yeah." A placeholder acknowledgement as he tries to sort his thoughts. "I, ah. I wish there had been another way to pull us out of the hive. I'm glad you figured it out, gods I'm glad, if I were still on that ship I..."
Well, he wouldn't have done anything, he knows. That was the point of the hive. He would have been a good little worker, a steadfast soldier, unable to comprehend anything was amiss. Gaeta swallows; rubs his forehead.
"I don't like being tricked," he says finally. "I don't know what else you could have done, but it's -- been a lot to process."
Her eyes flick down, accepting the words without bringing up that it had worked, so who cares about the trick involved - the methods, she reminds herself, do matter. But neither can she really apologize for it.
"Two lines of thought behind it. The first is that if I'd tried to do it then and there, I don't think the others would have taken kindly to it. Me versus everyone, I'd just end up like you. And the second?"
Fever's eyes look back up.
"Thought it'd give you a little more dignity if it wasn't public."
Him some dignity. Her the acidic tang of knowing she'd pulled the trick off. It's kind, as much an unwarranted mercy kill can be, which is only so little.
"Two lines of thought behind it. The first is that if I'd tried to do it then and there, I don't think the others would have taken kindly to it. Me versus everyone, I'd just end up like you. And the second?"
Fever's eyes look back up.
"Thought it'd give you a little more dignity if it wasn't public."
Him some dignity. Her the acidic tang of knowing she'd pulled the trick off. It's kind, as much an unwarranted mercy kill can be, which is only so little.
Gaeta nods. "Like I said." Quiet. "I don't know what else you could have done."
He draws a breath, trying to straighten up. "And I appreciate you trying to grant me some dignity, if that's also part of why. As much as you could when, um. You were stabbing me."
Oh gods he can feel that hysterical laugh trying to escape again.
"Besides, it meant the frakking bugs couldn't trick me anymore, so I guess it evens out."
He draws a breath, trying to straighten up. "And I appreciate you trying to grant me some dignity, if that's also part of why. As much as you could when, um. You were stabbing me."
Oh gods he can feel that hysterical laugh trying to escape again.
"Besides, it meant the frakking bugs couldn't trick me anymore, so I guess it evens out."
'A lantern,' says Tayrey, 'and this.' She pulls from her pocket a length of wire with some colorful wooden beads threaded along it. She wraps it around a nearby tree branch, in a loose spiral. In her mind, there's one bead for each of the people she's remembering, but she'll keep that to herself. This isn't the time for debates about who should count and who shouldn't, the digging up of painful memories for adversarial purposes.
'I thought I'd give a speech,' she says then, turning back to Fever. 'I thought about it, but it's just us, and now that we're here, it doesn't feel right.' Too performative. Procedure for the sake of procedure. It's more important that it means something.
'If we were shipside, I'd have had to- tell their families, you know? Whoever was left. Write that they were gone, and how they went.' For whatever value of gone they were, dead or otherwise. Tayrey bites her lip. 'Maybe we just talk about them. I'll light the lantern. There are a lot of traditions where light is...'
She pauses, because she's overthinking again, and she realises that what she really needs is authenticity. 'What did you choose?'
'I thought I'd give a speech,' she says then, turning back to Fever. 'I thought about it, but it's just us, and now that we're here, it doesn't feel right.' Too performative. Procedure for the sake of procedure. It's more important that it means something.
'If we were shipside, I'd have had to- tell their families, you know? Whoever was left. Write that they were gone, and how they went.' For whatever value of gone they were, dead or otherwise. Tayrey bites her lip. 'Maybe we just talk about them. I'll light the lantern. There are a lot of traditions where light is...'
She pauses, because she's overthinking again, and she realises that what she really needs is authenticity. 'What did you choose?'
[There is a bottle of whatever Fever was drinking during the Never Have I Ever game delivered to her doorstep with a little note tied to it.]
Thanks for the assist.
-CvR
Thanks for the assist.
-CvR
cw: reference to past infestation/parasitism and mind control
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nothingbadeverhappensto
2024-05-07 01:13 am (UTC)(link)
"A lot better, too, now that I'm not full of mind-control bugs for the second goddamn time," he says, rubbing at the back of his neck and giving an almost sheepish sort-of smile. "That sucked a lot, but at least we're back on dry land again. You helping out with things at Town Hall?"
He nods towards the building, craning his neck slightly to glance in one of the ground floor windows. He imagines they got hit as hard or harder than the police station, in terms of their paperwork getting messed up.
He nods towards the building, craning his neck slightly to glance in one of the ground floor windows. He imagines they got hit as hard or harder than the police station, in terms of their paperwork getting messed up.
In answer, Fever pulls a thin notebook from her pack, where it's been resting since this morning.
"There was a place I visited back when I was still getting my bearings. An old library in an abandoned temple, one of those places that got overgrown and really was more suited for travelers keeping the rain off than a place in service. But there was a book there in the midst of the others, where someone had written down the names and last words of those that had died."
They don't exactly have last words, last wishes. Nor a clear picture of how everyone left. At least they don't have to write those missives, tell people leagues and worlds away that someone may have fallen into great danger.
"The names part seemed the most important. Remember their names, and remember who they are that way. Saying they were here, it's been recorded. If...that seems suitable."
"There was a place I visited back when I was still getting my bearings. An old library in an abandoned temple, one of those places that got overgrown and really was more suited for travelers keeping the rain off than a place in service. But there was a book there in the midst of the others, where someone had written down the names and last words of those that had died."
They don't exactly have last words, last wishes. Nor a clear picture of how everyone left. At least they don't have to write those missives, tell people leagues and worlds away that someone may have fallen into great danger.
"The names part seemed the most important. Remember their names, and remember who they are that way. Saying they were here, it's been recorded. If...that seems suitable."
"Didn't realize it'd leave a mark, though. Sorry about that."
That, at least, she can apologize for. There's another awkward pause, because she hasn't had to do this. Or in this order. She has a feeling that perhaps I promise I won't kill you without really good reason won't go over well.
"Gods, this is...can we start over? My name's Fever, I should have led with that."
That, at least, she can apologize for. There's another awkward pause, because she hasn't had to do this. Or in this order. She has a feeling that perhaps I promise I won't kill you without really good reason won't go over well.
"Gods, this is...can we start over? My name's Fever, I should have led with that."
"Yes. I'm lucky, most of my work was put away - anything in the cabinets seems to have escaped the worst of it - but not so much for others. And I have apologizing to do at the library."
Her poor book. It's still drying out. She has no hope for the pages to ever be unwrinkled.
"That said, I'm sorry you got infested. I wish we'd been able to leave before that had to start happening. Trying to put us all in the hive...it's not a pleasant thing to contemplate."
There's an edge on her tone, though, that hints there's more than just imagination behind that statement. Only personal experience makes someone that resolute.
Her poor book. It's still drying out. She has no hope for the pages to ever be unwrinkled.
"That said, I'm sorry you got infested. I wish we'd been able to leave before that had to start happening. Trying to put us all in the hive...it's not a pleasant thing to contemplate."
There's an edge on her tone, though, that hints there's more than just imagination behind that statement. Only personal experience makes someone that resolute.
Edited 2024-05-09 21:06 (UTC)
She nods solemnly. 'Back home, when we speak of the dead, we say may they never be forgotten. I think that recording their names is a perfect way of doing that. A record that'll be here even when you and I go.' Not to death, but to the Tradelines for her, and wherever Fever's bargain with Mortanne will take her.
Then Tayrey bends down, and it only takes a minute for her to get out her kerosene lantern and set it to burning brightly. She picks it up by the handle, slides it along a tree branch so it can hang there, swaying a little at suitable height.
And then she speaks again, her words taking on ritual intensity. An initial calling of names, before any more detailed reflections.
'We remember Commander John Crichton.
We remember Rita Mordio.'
She looks to Fever, inviting her to say the next few.
Then Tayrey bends down, and it only takes a minute for her to get out her kerosene lantern and set it to burning brightly. She picks it up by the handle, slides it along a tree branch so it can hang there, swaying a little at suitable height.
And then she speaks again, her words taking on ritual intensity. An initial calling of names, before any more detailed reflections.
'We remember Commander John Crichton.
We remember Rita Mordio.'
She looks to Fever, inviting her to say the next few.
Edited 2024-05-10 19:12 (UTC)
"Yeah? Same thing at the police station, thankfully. Cerrit and I just got all the files over there reorganized like a week or two before all this. Would've sucked if the flood had caught us partway through."
He shakes his head. "And - yeah, I'm sorry too. For myself, and for everyone who had to deal with that directly, but also a lot of us got really weird when we were, uh. Infested."
Grimacing, he thinks of some of what he said to Gaeta, and to Drelasa, and that giant winged woman who put him out of his misery. He'll have to find them and talk to them about it all later.
"Glad you didn't get caught, though, or at least I didn't hear you in there with us. Wouldn't wish this kinda thing on my worst enemies." Not least because it's already happened to a couple of his more recent ones, but even putting that aside.
He shakes his head. "And - yeah, I'm sorry too. For myself, and for everyone who had to deal with that directly, but also a lot of us got really weird when we were, uh. Infested."
Grimacing, he thinks of some of what he said to Gaeta, and to Drelasa, and that giant winged woman who put him out of his misery. He'll have to find them and talk to them about it all later.
"Glad you didn't get caught, though, or at least I didn't hear you in there with us. Wouldn't wish this kinda thing on my worst enemies." Not least because it's already happened to a couple of his more recent ones, but even putting that aside.
Gaeta does finally sputter a weak laugh at that -- not because of Fever's name, but at the acknowledgement of just how blindingly awkward this is for both of them, and how mundane it feels. Yup, just two small-town neighbors bumping into each other at Town Hall after an embarrassing murder!
"Felix," he says, and shifts enough to offer her a hand. "Felix Gaeta. And honestly I can't complain if all I got out of it was a new scar."
"Felix," he says, and shifts enough to offer her a hand. "Felix Gaeta. And honestly I can't complain if all I got out of it was a new scar."
One afternoon, Fever gets a ping from her stone.
"What do you think the minimum amount of alcohol needed to scrub a guy's memories is, and follow-up question, want to watch me drink it?"
"What do you think the minimum amount of alcohol needed to scrub a guy's memories is, and follow-up question, want to watch me drink it?"
As Tayrey sets up the lantern, Fever gets a pen from her bag as well, opening to the blank page. She isn't sure what will become of the rest of the book - if it'll remain blank, or slowly fill with those that come, those that go. Some might stay, others might falter. But these people, she wants to remember.
And if the very last page in the back, after all the other blank pages, is inscribed with the names of the companions she no longer travels beside, it's for her own sake. In case somehow her memory falters again.
Ari speaks, and Fever writes, swift and clear. As she continues, she does the same.
"We remember Lady Cassandra de Rolo.
We remember Natsuno Yuuki.
We remember Arthur Lester."
Souls whose hopes and prayers had gone up with that beacon, even if what had come to pass did.
And if the very last page in the back, after all the other blank pages, is inscribed with the names of the companions she no longer travels beside, it's for her own sake. In case somehow her memory falters again.
Ari speaks, and Fever writes, swift and clear. As she continues, she does the same.
"We remember Lady Cassandra de Rolo.
We remember Natsuno Yuuki.
We remember Arthur Lester."
Souls whose hopes and prayers had gone up with that beacon, even if what had come to pass did.
"Fortunately, I escaped their clutches. Or they just didn't think I was a good carrier or something."
She looks to the side, a little awkward.
"Anyway, as long as you're all well now, right? No lingering effects - at least, that's what I've heard with others. And now we just have to work on repairs and getting the town back to where it was."
Thank gods the planting hadn't been affected. All that hard work...
"If you or Cerrit need anything we can dispense, all you have to do is ask. Or whatever else - we're all-" She stops herself from saying we're all in the same boat, finding it distasteful. "Traveling the same road, so to speak. And I haven't forgotten what you asked me before, about magic - it's just a matter of when you have free time."
She looks to the side, a little awkward.
"Anyway, as long as you're all well now, right? No lingering effects - at least, that's what I've heard with others. And now we just have to work on repairs and getting the town back to where it was."
Thank gods the planting hadn't been affected. All that hard work...
"If you or Cerrit need anything we can dispense, all you have to do is ask. Or whatever else - we're all-" She stops herself from saying we're all in the same boat, finding it distasteful. "Traveling the same road, so to speak. And I haven't forgotten what you asked me before, about magic - it's just a matter of when you have free time."
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