auroraexpress | (no subject)

[ Her ears flatten further, her tail giving a bit of a lash. ]

[ Rather than dignify that with any kind of an answer, she backs out and sits in front of the pod, thinking her way through it for herself. ]

....I could put you to sleep. So you won't be aware of it at all.

[Why do you make this so hard Meri. HE IS TRYING SO HARD HERE.]

Or use all the spell slots I have though I think I'll pass out right after and I don't know how much that'd fix.

[ Her tail lashes again, harder this time, and she growls quietly. ]

No. You're not helping! [ Lash, lash. ] Let me think and decide!

....

[maybe he can just disassociate because he can't deal]

[ Neither of us are happy about any of this. ]

[ And she is even more unhappy that she doesn't know why she doesn't want to go in. She's bristled and agitated and she knows it should be fine, it should be easy, it's no big deal? The pod will heal her. She needs healing. Simple, right? ]

[ Right. ]

[ Right. ]

[ It takes some time, but she eventually manages to make herself move, climbing inside the pod and hating every second of it until sleep steels over her. ]

[Nnnnnnope]

[And he's just going to sit here and just....let her go, though there's a touch more relaxation when she actually goes in.]

[....does he actually need to pay for feeling, NEED IT FOR THE CHARTS[

[ nah, she's got this! ]

[He seriously debates just leaving. Maybe go shoot things.]

[But he said he'd stay]

[So he's staying, just gonna let himself zone out]

[....berating himself for a lot because you know]

[Coping]

[ The moment she's done and the door pops open, she bolts out into the room with an unhappy yip, half spreading her wings out and giving herself a big ol' shake. Dislike, dislikedislike - ]

[It actually gets him to start pretty dramatically when she zips by.]

[Ends up stumbling out of his chair, blinking in a daze, looking around and]

....

Are you feeling better?

[Very. Flat.]

Edited 2019-12-15 07:35 (UTC)

[ shake shake shake ]

[ SHAKE SHAKE ]

[ SHAKE ]

[ She's practically radiating discomfort, her feathers all bristled up and her ears pinned. Her wings spread out the rest of the way and give a single hard flap. Which, somehow … that helps? A little. Not enough. ]

[ Swings her head around to stare at Dusk. And, you know what? She's just going to say it. Not to whine, not to complain, just to make sure that it's absolutely, emphatically clear. ]

I. Hated. That.

Obviously.

[He opens his mouth to say something else.]

[Then he shuts it.]

[Sighs again.]

But are you okay now?

No! [ She's full of bees and she needs - ]

[ She needs out. ]

I want to fly. That'll help.

It should be safe outside as long as you avoid the singing.

Never trust sounds out there.

[ She immediately starts off towards the door, less her usual bounce and more a jittery stride. ]

[ But then she pauses. Looks back at him. ]

Coming with?

Do you want me to?

If you want to? Yes. If you don't? Okay. [ Her end of her tail twitches and flicks slowly. ]

I like company and we should talk. But I need to fly. [ The bees, they are a problem. ]

[He doesn't know what he wants. If he lets himself feel, everything is conflicting.]

[It's easier not to so he's just going to continue to do that, face very blank.]

[He gestures for her to go ahead and he'll follow.]

[ She doesn't know what to make of that response. Doesn't like the blankness, doesn't like the cold, stone-walled shutdown. It sets her teeth on edge almost as much as everything that came before. With an effort she bites her tongue and just goes, walking fast but not so much so that she ditches him, until they're out of the train. ]

[ The moment she gets a breath of fresh air, she bunches her muscles and leaps up into it with a cry of relief, hard wingbeats taking her up, up, up. ]

[He doesn't know if it sets her off edge. It might. He tries to compromise and that fails. He's concerned and somehow that's bad. He doesn't know how to react that isn't going to go badly.]

[So he doesn't. Because he doesn't trust himself to be emotionally delicate. He's bad at it. He knows he is, and it's worse when he's]

[He's not doing well himself.]

[It's so much easier to just stop the feeling, but he also doesn't want anything bad to happen to her. So he follows her silently and will take a seat outside of the train and just keep an eye on her.]

[ It might be difficult to see her through the patches of dense, drifting fog. She darts and weaves and spins, dancing through the sky, visibly mostly as a flash of brilliant colour as sunlight catches her feathers. ]

[ But then she starts to sing, wordless and beautifully melodic. It's the kind of music that sinks right into a person, reverberating through them, like phoenix song. There's joy and relief and freedom in the air, and she's basking in it. Sharing it as best she can. ]

[He is tracking her, best he can. Looking for disturbances in the mist, timing when he can't find her, but it's never too long for him to get a hint.]

[The music worries him, until he realizes it's different from whatever has been in the mist so far. And it's. A little bit of a relief. If she's singing like that, she's fine.]

[It helps that tension, but he's still not poking the rest. Which makes it hard to deal with it.]

[But that's fine.]

[He's fine.]

[He's always fine.]

[ It's around half an hour of some serious flying and some equally serious singing before she comes back down, touching down lightly a few feet away from Dusk. ]

Better! [ Stretches herself out, wings, tail, paws and all. ]

That's good.

[He's still blanking hard.]

[A little less cold blanking, but still very much blanking.]

[ Now that she's (much) calmer than she had been, she plods closer to him. Not too close, though; she still leaves some distance, parking her butt down a couple of feet away and regarding him solemnly. ]

We need to talk.