Octavia Blake (
okteiviakom) wrote2023-07-08 03:16 pm
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Deck of the Cape Rouge, Saturday Morning
Octavia had been dreaming of many things, this week. Mostly Haven, mostly horror, but many other messy things, too. Sheep and tilling fields and glowing butterflies and a week on a farm (sheepskin blankets and bonedeep exhaustion and a warm voice in her ear talking about what use was fighting at the end of the world?) had featured in jumbled everything of it all, but that was not out of the ordinary enough for Octavia to have really paid it much mind.
(And, well, she always felt drawn to the woods. And particularly when traumatic shit had been going down.)
So this was just any old Saturday morning.
She had a coffee cup in hand when she emerged onto the deck, with faint plans of at least finding some nice stretches to do in a bit that wouldn't irritate her wounds too much. But of course, all that was forgotten when she looked up and saw a young man standing at the edge of the deck, just barely over the gangplank.
The cup fell from her grasp as she stared at him.
[ooc: Opennn.]
(And, well, she always felt drawn to the woods. And particularly when traumatic shit had been going down.)
So this was just any old Saturday morning.
She had a coffee cup in hand when she emerged onto the deck, with faint plans of at least finding some nice stretches to do in a bit that wouldn't irritate her wounds too much. But of course, all that was forgotten when she looked up and saw a young man standing at the edge of the deck, just barely over the gangplank.
The cup fell from her grasp as she stared at him.
[ooc: Opennn.]
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Duke loosened his hold on her, but kept an arm around her as he turned towards Ilian. "Sorry. We've, uh. Been through a lot, lately."
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"World's still standing, though."
Something was slowly occurring to Octavia.
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Sorry, Ilian. Duke was a little thin on patience right now.
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"He's dead, Duke," Octavia murmured. "And it wasn't the first bad thing that happened to him."
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He was still not exactly giving Ilian his friendliest look.
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"You'd promised," Ilian replied, gently. (Again. Yes, she remembered how he'd used that line on him the first time.)
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There was nothing he could say to that. Nothing at all.
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Was it because she'd helped destroy the planet?
Was he trapped?
And Ilian just looked back at her, so gentle, and shook his head. Almost smiled. (Her chest ached.) "Sometimes it just takes spring a little longer to come."
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Something caught her eye, something silver glinting faintly at Ilian's neck, and she fell quiet, speechless.
Ilian noticed and raised his eyebrows a little, but got no response.
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"I know it's not your usual, but I feel like you could use a drink."
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She tried to break away from his grasp, now, stepping towards Ilian, her eyes still on his neck.
Ilian, for his part, still had his eyebrows raised, but he didn't move. (Kept making himself as non-thretening as possible.)
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Yes.
Yes, it was a necklace, with a tiny silver pendant in the shape of a dove, etched with even tinier Japanese on one side. Hers, the one she'd been wearing constantly before the Ground had yanked her back.
Her inhale was shuddery.
Ilian just watched her, with that small, gentle smile, and whispered, "'Gon daunde yu don sin raun ai.'"
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“Tavi?” He asked quietly.
He knew she could handle herself physically, but he wasn’t sure either of them could handle much more heaped on her mentally.
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"She left this with me," Ilian put in, once it became clear she was swallowing back tears. "After I died."
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(He'd probably be about the same if Wade suddenly showed up, after all.)
". . . Guess you really can take it with you."
None of that was going to stop him from snarking, though.
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"It seemed important."
Octavia was holding back tears again.
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"Do you -- you want me to leave you two alone for a bit?"
He'd still hover, just . . . out of direct sight.
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"Maybe," she admitted.
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Her eyes stayed on Ilian, though, even then. Like maybe he'd disappear if she let him out of her sight.
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He grabbed the ladder leading to the wheelhouse and quickly scaled up it, ducking inside where he could be out of the way, but still within easy yelling distance.
Tried to remember what she may have said to him about Ilian, but couldn't concentrate well enough to bring anything to mind.
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Collapsed into Ilian, a little too heavy to really be a hug. Exactly heavy enough to be almost a decade of guilt.
She would be at the clinging for a while, and Ilian would let her, saying calm, quiet things near her ear.