[ 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. ]
[ At first Daryl doesn't realize what she's doing, but the moment he does he looks away, clearly flustered. It's the last thing he was expecting her to do and it isn't until Mavis has turned around to show him her back that he glances at her, cautious and embarrassed for the both of them.
It's a good thing she can't see how pink his neck has gotten.
There are scars, he can see them immediately, but what he's afraid of seeing isn't there. The wounds he remembers so sharply being put there are gone, but the scars that remain remind him of his own a little with their random placements, ages and depths. He has to shake his head to remember to look away again from the sleek slope of her back and he takes a polite step away from her as he does. ]
'm glad.
[ Is he? If there's nothing to show for their horrific memories, how are they supposed to carry them? Without proof, what's the point of pain? It's a confusing thought when he'd have given so much back home for his friends to benefit from the same erasure. ]
If they're keepin' us here... it's the least she can do.
[ no proof of her weakness. the other scars were from battles won and hardships overcome. they are marks of honor and resiliency. not from the one that bested her.
she turns towards him again as she pulls her shirt back on. despite not being able to see him then, she'd heard and felt plenty. ]
[ Yeah, she had. He supposes that he hadn't hidden that very well, but he's never been good at pretending to be anything but who he is. He keeps his eyes averted until he knows she's got her top tied back on, then he offers her a half-shrug and an undeniably shy glance. ]
It's fine. Ain't like I don't deserve it.
[ He just hadn't been expecting it, but it doesn't seem as though she'd done it to throw him off on purpose. ]
I don't believe that. [ she hadn't done it to punish him. ] We've been naked together before.
[ not in the void. but then, she recalls, he'd been uncomfortable then too. she would have thought even the people who were uneasy with that originally would have gotten past it here, with the festivals being like they are.
not daryl, though. he may be the person she knows with the strongest sense of who he is. it'll take more than that to change him. more than death, too, she hopes. ]
[ She isn't wrong but the blunt way she states it almost guts him with embarrassment. It's almost like being naked in front of her all over again. ]
Yeah. But I've been tryin' to forget that day. When we didn't have a choice.
[ It's different when he has a choice, but even those moments are few and far between with Daryl. His shyness goes much deeper than even just the physical. ]
[ she shifts her weight. it feels stupid to apologize for something like making him remember that, all things considered. it will probably be a while yet before she apologizes to daryl for anything.
but it's clear she hadn't meant to thrust it upon him unwelcome, from her awkward lingering. ]
Those clothes don't suit you. [ she changes the subject inexpertly, pointing to the clothes that the duchess had provided them with to leave. to replace the ones that had been destroyed in their death. ]
[ He isn't expecting an apology. He doesn't wait on shit like that and he'd said it to be honest, not to guilt her. But Daryl recognizes an awkward subject change when he hears it and for once he isn't the only one ruining a conversation.
He can't help but smirk a little, glancing down at the softness and embroidery. ]
They don't, huh? [ Obviously they don't. ] What sorta clothes do?
[ He really hasn't found anything that suits him here, but is this like the opposite of when that girl with the green hair had told him he looked like a person who would own a dog? ]
[ she's never seen work overalls before coming here, but she already knows to associate with people who can't be yanking their pants up all the time because they're busy doing manual labor. that's daryl.
[ Before Rubilykskoye, Daryl had gotten by on maintaining the same hard-used clothes for years. He'd think she was reading his mind, if not for the mention of something that sounds like suspenders or something. that's only in the spin-off. ]
You ain't wrong. But belts are more useful. They're good for more'n holdin' up your pants, in a pinch.
[ Tourniquets, to say the least. Hard to cut an infected limb off if you've only got it tied with suspenders. ]
I lost... what I was wearin' when we left, all my gear. I didn't leave much with Jesse. [ He shrugs, then sits down on the edge of the one bed. ] Gotta start over again.
[ she tries to imagine another use for a belt. looks at his briefly, doing some kind of mental calculations. while he may be thinking tourniquet, she's thinking garrote. eventually, she tips her head in acknowledgment, which turns slowly into a nod. yes, he's right. that's useful. ]
The hunting lodge can give you good work clothes in exchange for kills. [ she moves to the other bed, pulls her feet up onto it and crosses her legs. ] What else did you lose?
[ He isn't going to say no, but he doubts she can make him a tool that will last. He's never been one to use a bow like Carol's and he uses his knives too often and too hard to use tools made from rock. ]
They know me now. [ He hasn't considered that that might be a hinderance now, as much as anything else. ] We'll see if they'll still trade with me.
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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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It's a good thing she can't see how pink his neck has gotten.
There are scars, he can see them immediately, but what he's afraid of seeing isn't there. The wounds he remembers so sharply being put there are gone, but the scars that remain remind him of his own a little with their random placements, ages and depths. He has to shake his head to remember to look away again from the sleek slope of her back and he takes a polite step away from her as he does. ]
'm glad.
[ Is he? If there's nothing to show for their horrific memories, how are they supposed to carry them? Without proof, what's the point of pain? It's a confusing thought when he'd have given so much back home for his friends to benefit from the same erasure. ]
If they're keepin' us here... it's the least she can do.
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[ no proof of her weakness. the other scars were from battles won and hardships overcome. they are marks of honor and resiliency. not from the one that bested her.
she turns towards him again as she pulls her shirt back on. despite not being able to see him then, she'd heard and felt plenty. ]
I made you uncomfortable.
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It's fine. Ain't like I don't deserve it.
[ He just hadn't been expecting it, but it doesn't seem as though she'd done it to throw him off on purpose. ]
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[ not in the void. but then, she recalls, he'd been uncomfortable then too. she would have thought even the people who were uneasy with that originally would have gotten past it here, with the festivals being like they are.
not daryl, though. he may be the person she knows with the strongest sense of who he is. it'll take more than that to change him. more than death, too, she hopes. ]
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[ She isn't wrong but the blunt way she states it almost guts him with embarrassment. It's almost like being naked in front of her all over again. ]
Yeah. But I've been tryin' to forget that day. When we didn't have a choice.
[ It's different when he has a choice, but even those moments are few and far between with Daryl. His shyness goes much deeper than even just the physical. ]
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[ she shifts her weight. it feels stupid to apologize for something like making him remember that, all things considered. it will probably be a while yet before she apologizes to daryl for anything.
but it's clear she hadn't meant to thrust it upon him unwelcome, from her awkward lingering. ]
Those clothes don't suit you. [ she changes the subject inexpertly, pointing to the clothes that the duchess had provided them with to leave. to replace the ones that had been destroyed in their death. ]
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He can't help but smirk a little, glancing down at the softness and embroidery. ]
They don't, huh? [ Obviously they don't. ] What sorta clothes do?
[ He really hasn't found anything that suits him here, but is this like the opposite of when that girl with the green hair had told him he looked like a person who would own a dog? ]
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[ she draws a line down the side of her chest. ]
With straps.
[ she's never seen work overalls before coming here, but she already knows to associate with people who can't be yanking their pants up all the time because they're busy doing manual labor. that's daryl.
not this fancy thing. ]
yes i did shuffle my icons just to add this
that's only in the spin-off.]You ain't wrong. But belts are more useful. They're good for more'n holdin' up your pants, in a pinch.
[ Tourniquets, to say the least. Hard to cut an infected limb off if you've only got it tied with suspenders. ]
I lost... what I was wearin' when we left, all my gear. I didn't leave much with Jesse. [ He shrugs, then sits down on the edge of the one bed. ] Gotta start over again.
LMAO OH GOOD
The hunting lodge can give you good work clothes in exchange for kills. [ she moves to the other bed, pulls her feet up onto it and crosses her legs. ] What else did you lose?
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[ He'd been able to improvise snares, which he hates to use, up until he'd had enough to start trading properly for the supplies he really needed.
All for nothing. ]
My weapons.
[ His mind. ]
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[ mavis says this almost automatically, dismissively. ]
I will make you one.
[ at least, one that is functional enough until he can get his own. she's already working on that bow for leah, anyway. ]
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[ He isn't going to say no, but he doubts she can make him a tool that will last. He's never been one to use a bow like Carol's and he uses his knives too often and too hard to use tools made from rock. ]
They know me now. [ He hasn't considered that that might be a hinderance now, as much as anything else. ] We'll see if they'll still trade with me.
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