sticksandbones | new moon

[ She is! Once she grabs more food, which makes him smile. And reach out to begin fixing her hair. Two months. Ah. He cannot finger comb this. ]

Do you have a brush?

Mm, on the dresser across the bed.

( felicity takes another drink and then... the brush floats over with a flourish, surrounded by swirling pink sparkles. )

That bad, huh?

[ Oh! Telekinesis is always amazing, it's so mundane yet simply useful for everything. He takes the brush with a smile, then moves to sit himself down beside and slightly behind her so he can tackle her hair with the gentlest of brushing. ]

Two months, my dear. But it is in much better condition than I imagine I would come out!

( .... oh. she

well. she wasn't sure why with how he'd been acting just moments prior, but- she'd thought he'd been hinting that she needed to take care of it herself. others always did. she thinks the last time someone brushed her hair it was...

her brother.

she was six.

for a moment she just sits, stunned. )

... Oh- um. ... I'm a very still sleeper, for the most part. It probably helped.

Hm! That would do it. I believe I - as someone would say - fight demons in my sleep. Absolute mess. It is one of the reasons I keep my hair short. I have been a roller since I was a child.

[ He pinches his tongue between his teeth as he carefully works her hair out, this is going to take a bit, it's long. But he does so with the gentlest of touches, she will hardly feel any tugging or pulling. ]

... It's safer to stay still.

( it's

a start. an opening. )

[ Ah. He knows many reasons staying still at night would be beneficial. Someone or something may hear you. May feel the movement. May think you're awake.

He hums softly in acknowledgement of her words, his hands never faltering on her hair, carefully separating chunks to brush each spot in turn. ]

It can be. Any particular reason?

Plenty.

... When I was on the streets as a kid, it was the best way to stay hidden when I had to sleep- otherwise I wasn't even sure if I'd wake up in the same place I fell asleep. And then in the facility... every movement was checked on and if it was decided we were misbehaving, we'd be punished.

( idly, she raises her arm. if he strains, even in the dim light from the windows, he can see very faint remains of scars. )

[ He doesn't like feeling anger. There are very few things that get it out of him. But as his Staff's eye twists to look as she raises her arms, and he sees the faint scars, he feels it dully in his chest. A sick sensation. An impotent sensation. The staffs eye narrows, seems to tense.

He pauses in his brushing now, to wrap his arms around Felicity from behind, and simply give her a hug. It's tight and warm, but not restrictive. She'll find she can easily pull out of it, if she wants. ]

I am sorry, my child. That must have been a time of great stress and fear, pain and anger.

It wasn't the worst of it. And it started when I was seven, so... I've had time to get used to it. ... It's not safe here, so.

( still sleeping. ...there's a dullness to her tone and she almost doesn't notice he's stopped until she's in a hug.

... oh.

she's not going to cry. she's stronger than that. )

[ Seven. It makes him sigh, and squeeze her gently, before letting go to go back to her hair. Methodically portioning it out, and gently brushing each portion. ]

It is not safe here, no, but you are not alone, my child. I know it is not something you can simply unlearn after years, but if it ever helps, the door to my house is always open. It is always open, for whatever manner you may need to use it. Whether it is companionship, so you might feel more at ease sleeping, or simply to sit in silence with someone.

[ He's already plotting. ]

Mm. Everyone leaves, so I might as well be. I've long since accepted I'm barely a chapter in most people's lives.

( even if she'd like to be part of the story too. she's quiet though, gaze flicking about.

she's heard it all before. it doesn't stick. )

[ Ah. He knows that pain. A forgotten footnote in history. His sigh is gentle, and he pauses in brushing her hair, resting his hand lightly on her head instead to simply pet, smoothing down strands of flyaway hair with the soft touch. ]

On my Souljam, on the very Truth that pulses through it, I promise you, my child. I will not leave. It is all right if you do not believe me, I know trust is hard to come by when you have been so hurt.

[ He will have to speak with Dark Cacao and Clotted Cream about his idea, but he already knows they will be amendable to it. Especially the old warrior, who enjoys collecting children as much as he does. ]

Please do not feel you have to answer immediately, but allow me to lay this at your feet. Would you like to come live with us?

( ... why is it that the more grandiose a promise is, the less she believes it? even with the caveat that he'll understand if she doesn't trust it, it's... ...

it feels a little like an argument she had with another sweet-natured blond in the grove. before she really did push him away. she'll probably just do the same thing again- maybe she should nip it in the bud.

she could say so many cruel things, brush off the kindness showed, reject his offerings-

she does nothing. but maybe pv will see that she's starting to cry, completely stunned. )

[ Because grandiose promises are easy to make, and easy to break. The tears finally catch his attention and his expression pinches. ]

Oh... oh, my dear.

[ He sets aside the brush, moves the tray, then reaches out to gather her into his arms again, turning her in against him to pull her to his shoulder. Holds her tightly and rocks her gently back and forth. ]

It's all right. Let it out.

( the motion seems to remind her she's, you know. a thing that exists again, and immediately she tries to hide her face with her hand, don't look, don't look, she can't be vulnerable or she'll be hurt- )

Why?

[ He lets her hide her face, he won't stop her, and instead turns her in against his shoulder so she can hide there as well. He shh's softly, rubbing his hand in soothing circles on her back, his ears pressing backwards. ]

Why? Why would I not?

[ Care. Offer this. Give her love and affection when she clearly needs it. ]

I'm bad luck! I kill people just by existing- I'm a disaster who can barely control my magic, I steal and break things- you don't know anything about me! I've been an omen of death since I was a kid!

[ Oh, his heart aches for her. He squeezes her gently, shakes his head. ]

If that were true, my child, would I not be dead? Would my luck not be horrendous? I will not argue that bad luck happens around you, but I will argue that you are not the cause. It is not your fault these things happen. And I would not judge what you have done in the past. We all have things we regret. But it is merely that. The past. It is what you do now, what you do in the future, that matters.

I- I literally am? I'm a Wellspring with an Affinity for misfortune. I am literally a fountain of bad luck. And I can feel when it activates too-

( she wants to sound indignant and not like the deeply upset young woman she is, but it's a little hard because she is not escaping the hug or anything. )

I just- I don't get it. What's the catch? There's always a cost.

[ Sorry, he doesn't believe it. Well, he DOES, but it's also not hard to curse someone to be like that. She can pull away if she desires, his hold is tight but not restrictive. ]

No catch, no cost. I know you have no reason to believe me. But I cannot lie. The only thing I desire for you is you to be healthy, and happy, and to know you're loved.

( sincerley, and completely baffled- )

But I'm not.

[ HIS HEART. ]

But you are. I love you, my dear. I do not need to know your past, what you may or may not have done. I see a wonderful young lady, who is trying her best to keep moving forward despite what life has thrown at her.

( words are a struggle, one that she is failing so very hard at. pure vanilla can probably make out another protest that she isn't between sobs though, all while she curls up more, like she's trying to make herself impossible to see. after all, they can't punish you for weakness if they can't find you. )

Shh, shh, it is okay. Cry it out, my dear.

[ He holds her tightly, letting her curl up into a ball, moving her blankets to help tuck her in further. He rocks her gently back and forth, his hand coming up to stroke over her head, gently tucking strands behind her ears, away from her face.

And he gives the top of her head a soft kiss, before tucking her in tighter. ]

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child abuse allusions

cw: generally going to be a lot here

yeah.

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