[ she hasn't, yet. she's fucked and scrapped her way through enough of this for that, it seems, and yet it keeps leaking through. stress, or something. she can't put her finger on it. ]
[ Some mysteries are slowly shaking themselves into place for Daryl. Things he hadn't realized he'd been wondering about, which he'd just written off as impossibly strange. ]
So that wasn't you either.
[ She was in the ways that matter to Daryl. But maybe it's more complicated than the way it makes him feel. ]
[ she certainly doesn't feel like herself, now. but she could remember everything through the haze of heat and hunger anyway, and there is something primal about it that makes a kind of sense to her.
[ she won't, but she can insist that she remains committed to getting daryl back to his. the kuruko may be dead, but he doesn't have to hurt like she does. ]
[ Some people have disappeared and not come back, he's heard. So maybe she's right. He just doesn't have the space in his heart left for hope like that. Not right now. ]
You ok?
[ He knows it's a stupid question but neither does he want to ask: Can I see you again? ]
[ At first he doesn't know what to say. Then he does. ]
I'd like that.
[ He's just too tired and fucking sad about it all to lie. It's good that she's with Felipe, that they're safe together. But he wants to see her again. ]
[ she knows the one. it had almost been her room, but she had been too soft, and had instead given jesse her rock to defend the room with. to keep it for himself. he didn't want to fight, he said.
it's good that he hadn't come out to the woods with them.
she climbs the stairs, finds her way to the room, and enters without knocking. there is no knocking at a campsite, and she hasn't bothered to stop and learn niceties in the past couple months.
she surveys the room, trying to make sense of what little changes he had made since she last saw it. ]
[ He's sitting on the bed when she comes in but he stands up quickly when she does. He isn't surprised that she didn't knock, as social niceties seem out of place on her. Jesse had left the door unlocked on his way out earlier because with Daryl inside, their collection of furs and pelts and tack, not to mention cached stores of dried food, are safe. In fact, it looks nearly like a spare but rustic cabin that Mavis enters, minus the fire damage.
But Daryl himself is still in the fine clothes they'd dressed him in before releasing him on their long walk back to the town. ]
You're alive.
[ He's alive too, and yet he still hadn't quite been able to believe it of her. Not even after walking back from the castle with her, nearly catatonic. He needed to see her again to be sure. He's a little breathless now that he has. ]
[ her head tilts a little. she doesn't move towards him quite yet. doesn't feel like she is allowed to, by that greeting. instead, she cautiously shuts the door, earns them a little bit of privacy. it's the one advantage she can see to permanent structures like these. no ability to move where they'll find resources in a given season, but at least they can close themselves off more easily. ]
[ That's not what he'd meant, even if he's not sure what he did mean. The awkwardness of the moment shows on his face clearly. ]
Just... not used to mistakes takin' themselves back.
[ Except for Leah. He's done this before, in a way. This exact cycle. Kill her, then come face to face with her again. Only it's different with Mavis. It has to be. ]
[ mavis sits with that apology for a long, uncomfortable silence. she can feel his grief, his sincerity, as surely as she had felt his hunger. both had felt like him.
she draws nearer to him, studying his face. close enough to touch but never closing the distance entirely.
then she reaches into the back of her waistband and produces a kitchen knife. she holds it by the blade, offers it to him. her good knife was lost to the void, but this one will serve for now. ]
[ Daryl is an old hand at long, awkward silences, so it's easier on him than it would be on most, but when she approaches him he stands a little straighter. His shoulders square a little more despite how much he trusts her.
But when the knife comes out, nothing could have surprised him more. He blinks at her, lost. ]
Why... why would I do that?
[ He'd hurt her once already. The last thing he wants to do is do it again and the gesture has baffled him. ]
[ she shrugs. why indeed. he wouldn't hurt her. she knows this, and it was why she'd offered it in the first place. not for the sake of it, not for revenge.
it reassures her anyway. that the seed hadn't taken root in his mind, that she was to blame for all that death. her crimes are different, less personal to him, but she is familiar with the sense of responsibility.
she puts the knife away. ]
Exactly. [ she nods. ] Words mean nothing. This is what matters. You owe me nothing.
[ He's relieved when the blade disappears and he exhales, glad the moment isn't any more difficult to navigate than it appears on the surface. He understands what she meant by it. Perhaps even why she felt she had to do it.
But it means they're okay, there's something still friendly and salvageable here, and Daryl finds himself wishing he could do what he always does when he's reunited with a friend - he wishes he could hug her.
He doesn't. Not after what happened, he doesn't want to touch her in that way, doesn't want her to get the wrong idea. But no words of apology seem like enough. She's right, they mean nothing, so instead of trying he just reaches with one hand out to touch her shoulder, then her face. Her hair. Almost as if confirming she's there. ]
[ felipe had hugged her. had thrown himself recklessly at her, relieved by the light behind her eyes. she can feel the urge there, but he stamps it down. ruffles her hair instead.
kid.
so she does it for him. it's the first one she has taken, seized for herself. she closes her arms around his middle and hopes that she is just convincing, just reasonable.
that she is not a kossian, pressing her thoughts onto his, making him feel and think things that aren't his own. the kind that kuruko told stories about over fires to warn children not to wander too far. ]
[ It's more than relief that floods him when she steps into him and wraps her arms around him. It releases the self-hatred he's been carrying with him for days, the fury at himself he hasn't been able to give up since the Duchess had given him back a life.
It's not his life, not anymore, but maybe it doesn't have to be no life, after all. She forgives him. She isn't afraid of him. Daryl wraps his arms around her shoulders and fairly crushes her to his chest, committing to it entirely. He lets his nose tip into her hair and just breathes. ]
I thought you'd hate me.
[ Barely a murmur. They're so close he doesn't have to speak above a whisper. ]
who was she kidding? she was so desperately afraid of returning to the life she'd had in the wilds that she can't even kill someone she hates because she is too attached to him. even if she'd hated daryl the moment he'd jumped her, she couldn't have killed him either.
but she doesn't. herself, a little, maybe. for her own weakness. but not him. he had only taken what he'd rightfully been able to wrest from her. ]
[ He doesn't know how she doesn't. Maybe she's more forgiving than he'd be, maybe she's more able to separate the monsters inside them from who they are, or were before they arrived here. He tries to tell himself that he doesn't have to understand. He just has to accept the grace.
He doesn't know how long to hold her for either but when he finally detaches and unwinds his arms, he takes her by the shoulders and doesn't step back. ]
Maybe you should. But I'll take it.
[ He realizes that if they're stuck here and he couldn't see her anymore, he'd miss her terribly. He lets her go. ]
Did it... scar?
[ He flinches when he asks, the memories snapping through his mind before he can stop them. His teeth in her thigh, the second bite on her shoulder and collarbone that had drained her dry. He desperately hopes whatever mind-reading powers she has didn't pick those images and memory-sensations up. ]
[ it's the images themselves that make him ask. the memory. he flinches from it, yes, but the memory of the hunger is still there too. the way he'd thrilled in all of it.
did he hope he'd left his mark? was that stronger than the guilt that he might have? mavis' head tilts a little as she cranes her neck to look up at him. ]
[ That's all she has to say for him to know he shouldn't have asked. He knows Jesse had scarred, he'd seen as much afterward, but he hadn't killed Jesse. He hadn't been forced to come back like he and Mavis had. It's been examining his own body after Felipe's attack that's made him ask.
Because he is carrying new scars. Fainter than he thought they'd be, but there. ]
You ain't gotta tell me if you don't want. I shouldn't have asked.
[ And yet he had, because yes. He wants to know. He wants the truth and he doesn't want to dwell on why. ]
with the distance between them, now, mavis reaches up to unlace the tie that holds the top of her blouse closed. she untucks it and pulls it over her head in one efficient movement.
she doesn't wear anything to support her breasts. there's no need. despite the fact that he hadn't gotten a chance to see that properly out in the void, she doesn't look self conscious of her nakedness. it's just skin, and they've already determined he isn't going to hurt her.
she turns her back to him.
there are other scars β a smattering of them, different kinds, some of them faded with age. but where he'd pressed his paw down into her, where his claws had scraped and dug, there's nothing. like it hadn't happened.
she hasn't seen her back firsthand, but she'd seen her thighs. it's an easy guess, and much easier to demonstrate rather than have to find words for when words always require a higher lift for her. she's still so unused to actually communicating with other people, still getting used to the sound of her own voice. ]
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[ she hasn't, yet. she's fucked and scrapped her way through enough of this for that, it seems, and yet it keeps leaking through. stress, or something. she can't put her finger on it. ]
it was the same as when they took me
feverish
wet
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So that wasn't you either.
[ She was in the ways that matter to Daryl. But maybe it's more complicated than the way it makes him feel. ]
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[ she certainly doesn't feel like herself, now. but she could remember everything through the haze of heat and hunger anyway, and there is something primal about it that makes a kind of sense to her.
is that the kuruko? or is it the duchess? ]
do you feel like you
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[ He answers very fast. Almost defensively. ]
My people made me who I am.
I dunno who I am alone.
[ He means without them but to Daryl, the feeling is the same. Without the people that made him worthy of his life, he is alone. ]
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you will see yours again
[ she won't, but she can insist that she remains committed to getting daryl back to his. the kuruko may be dead, but he doesn't have to hurt like she does. ]
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But thanks.
[ Some people have disappeared and not come back, he's heard. So maybe she's right. He just doesn't have the space in his heart left for hope like that. Not right now. ]
You ok?
[ He knows it's a stupid question but neither does he want to ask: Can I see you again? ]
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[ still. again? and according to aristaeus, she is herself in all detectable ways, no matter how it feels. ]
i dont want to go back to the castle
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[ Never, not if he can help it. ]
You safe?
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with felipe
i can come see you though
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I'd like that.
[ He's just too tired and fucking sad about it all to lie. It's good that she's with Felipe, that they're safe together. But he wants to see her again. ]
I'm in Jesse's room. Second floor.
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it's good that he hadn't come out to the woods with them.
she climbs the stairs, finds her way to the room, and enters without knocking. there is no knocking at a campsite, and she hasn't bothered to stop and learn niceties in the past couple months.
she surveys the room, trying to make sense of what little changes he had made since she last saw it. ]
action;
But Daryl himself is still in the fine clothes they'd dressed him in before releasing him on their long walk back to the town. ]
You're alive.
[ He's alive too, and yet he still hadn't quite been able to believe it of her. Not even after walking back from the castle with her, nearly catatonic. He needed to see her again to be sure. He's a little breathless now that he has. ]
Y'look... like you.
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[ her head tilts a little. she doesn't move towards him quite yet. doesn't feel like she is allowed to, by that greeting. instead, she cautiously shuts the door, earns them a little bit of privacy. it's the one advantage she can see to permanent structures like these. no ability to move where they'll find resources in a given season, but at least they can close themselves off more easily. ]
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[ That's not what he'd meant, even if he's not sure what he did mean. The awkwardness of the moment shows on his face clearly. ]
Just... not used to mistakes takin' themselves back.
[ Except for Leah. He's done this before, in a way. This exact cycle. Kill her, then come face to face with her again. Only it's different with Mavis. It has to be. ]
I'm sorry. An' I gotta say it to your face.
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she draws nearer to him, studying his face. close enough to touch but never closing the distance entirely.
then she reaches into the back of her waistband and produces a kitchen knife. she holds it by the blade, offers it to him. her good knife was lost to the void, but this one will serve for now. ]
Take it. Hurt me.
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But when the knife comes out, nothing could have surprised him more. He blinks at her, lost. ]
Why... why would I do that?
[ He'd hurt her once already. The last thing he wants to do is do it again and the gesture has baffled him. ]
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it reassures her anyway. that the seed hadn't taken root in his mind, that she was to blame for all that death. her crimes are different, less personal to him, but she is familiar with the sense of responsibility.
she puts the knife away. ]
Exactly. [ she nods. ] Words mean nothing. This is what matters. You owe me nothing.
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But it means they're okay, there's something still friendly and salvageable here, and Daryl finds himself wishing he could do what he always does when he's reunited with a friend - he wishes he could hug her.
He doesn't. Not after what happened, he doesn't want to touch her in that way, doesn't want her to get the wrong idea. But no words of apology seem like enough. She's right, they mean nothing, so instead of trying he just reaches with one hand out to touch her shoulder, then her face. Her hair. Almost as if confirming she's there. ]
You're convincin', you know that?
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kid.
so she does it for him. it's the first one she has taken, seized for herself. she closes her arms around his middle and hopes that she is just convincing, just reasonable.
that she is not a kossian, pressing her thoughts onto his, making him feel and think things that aren't his own. the kind that kuruko told stories about over fires to warn children not to wander too far. ]
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It's not his life, not anymore, but maybe it doesn't have to be no life, after all. She forgives him. She isn't afraid of him. Daryl wraps his arms around her shoulders and fairly crushes her to his chest, committing to it entirely. He lets his nose tip into her hair and just breathes. ]
I thought you'd hate me.
[ Barely a murmur. They're so close he doesn't have to speak above a whisper. ]
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[ if she'd hated him, he'd be dead.
who was she kidding? she was so desperately afraid of returning to the life she'd had in the wilds that she can't even kill someone she hates because she is too attached to him. even if she'd hated daryl the moment he'd jumped her, she couldn't have killed him either.
but she doesn't. herself, a little, maybe. for her own weakness. but not him. he had only taken what he'd rightfully been able to wrest from her. ]
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He doesn't know how long to hold her for either but when he finally detaches and unwinds his arms, he takes her by the shoulders and doesn't step back. ]
Maybe you should. But I'll take it.
[ He realizes that if they're stuck here and he couldn't see her anymore, he'd miss her terribly. He lets her go. ]
Did it... scar?
[ He flinches when he asks, the memories snapping through his mind before he can stop them. His teeth in her thigh, the second bite on her shoulder and collarbone that had drained her dry. He desperately hopes whatever mind-reading powers she has didn't pick those images and memory-sensations up. ]
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[ it's the images themselves that make him ask. the memory. he flinches from it, yes, but the memory of the hunger is still there too. the way he'd thrilled in all of it.
did he hope he'd left his mark? was that stronger than the guilt that he might have? mavis' head tilts a little as she cranes her neck to look up at him. ]
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Because he is carrying new scars. Fainter than he thought they'd be, but there. ]
You ain't gotta tell me if you don't want. I shouldn't have asked.
[ And yet he had, because yes. He wants to know. He wants the truth and he doesn't want to dwell on why. ]
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but.
with the distance between them, now, mavis reaches up to unlace the tie that holds the top of her blouse closed. she untucks it and pulls it over her head in one efficient movement.
she doesn't wear anything to support her breasts. there's no need. despite the fact that he hadn't gotten a chance to see that properly out in the void, she doesn't look self conscious of her nakedness. it's just skin, and they've already determined he isn't going to hurt her.
she turns her back to him.
there are other scars β a smattering of them, different kinds, some of them faded with age. but where he'd pressed his paw down into her, where his claws had scraped and dug, there's nothing. like it hadn't happened.
she hasn't seen her back firsthand, but she'd seen her thighs. it's an easy guess, and much easier to demonstrate rather than have to find words for when words always require a higher lift for her. she's still so unused to actually communicating with other people, still getting used to the sound of her own voice. ]
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yes i did shuffle my icons just to add this
LMAO OH GOOD
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