#remember when we've talked....... about the painful interim

[tragedia]

@banalras told winfred, ❝ i am the monster they all say i am. ❞

A tired, pale face welcomes the words. Now more than before, it's clear that the two of them are no longer children now and have been worlds apart for years. Winfred has felt on shaky grounds ever since returning, and the words of someone that was once a person he had called friend shake him more than he wishes to admit. Are they even still friends? Can he call him that, would Aridhel agree to such a sentiment? With no real knowledge of what the other has been through, Winfred has no answers to his own questions and a part of him is afraid to ask.

The rumours Win has actually heard, the stories, plenty of them have reached him through the mouths of old friends, but having been raised in a place where secrets are a currency, he knows better than to believe it without scrutiny.

“ I don't care what they all say, ” Winfred says, his expression uncharacteristically serious. His hand brushes against his face, fingers tangling into a mess of curls. It seems all of his reunions are bound to be painful, one way or another. “ Why would I listen to anyone else but you? I care about what you say. Fuck, just tell me what you need — whatever I can do, I want to help, alright? ”

[philomelia]

when cassie was little, her and her sisters used to play at having super powers. their mother would sit on the doorstep of the caravan, watching the girls run between the tents, pretending to turn invisible or read minds and run twice as fast (five years later and athena would be able to look inside of you and see something terribly, horribly wrong- it won't be mind reading, but it'll feel like it). in the interim, the girls would start to see ghosts and feel auras around certain cards and be tugged towards stories of the foul and the mystical. cassie would be trapped between the tents, thinking about being invisible or reading minds or running twice as fast: her sisters won't even remember the burn of sun and want. " you could have a super power. this is definitely the age when they start manifesting in movies, right? or maybe you'll be lucky enough to get possessed by a black blob or bitten by a radioactive spider. one of them might make you a bad guy, though. " the tenor of the power seemed to link to whether people were good or evil. the more ghoulish the powers were, the more likely they were to be a bad guy. " yeah? maybe we should talk to each other more often, then. since we both seem to like it a great deal. "

cassie, greedy and jealous and scorned by youth, wishes she had more mourning in her life. she thinks it would make her a more interesting person. she thinks it would bring justification to the burning pain that sometimes lives in her chest. tracy says you're not an asshole but cassie doesn't know how long she'd keep saying that if she saw the horror - show that played all day in cassie's chest (some girls are born with a heart and others are born with a beast). " i think everyone is a little bit of an asshole. i think we just like to pretend we're all good all the time to make ourselves feel a little better, right? " to cassie, the glass wasn't even half empty. it was just a glass. there is a small laughter that falls from tracy and cassie laps it up, a stray cat looking for a soft bed in every moment that was vaguely intimate. " do you have any pictures of her around? or does he hide all of them? " there is nothing valuable enough to cassie for her to keep. a life on the road meant that everything had to be left behind, eventually, so it was better to keep attachments short and sweet. " sort of pretty. i think humans are, like, hardwired to think scary shit looks pretty, so your last few moments alive aren't the most horrifying things in the world. "

i'm hardly ever busy. a wallflower, crawling up the soft brick, unnoticed by any eye that was stupid enough to disregard anything of true worth (she is sure a place like beacon hills is claustrophobic and damning: anything that sparkles must be seen as odd). " i'd like to see it. you can come over to mine, too, if you want, but . . . it isn't exactly homely. we've just moved in recently. " having spent the better part of a lifetime trying to piece together what a home actually was, she has concluded that a home is merely time. time, dedicated to one place, to one life. without time, nothing could ever be a home, which is to say-- the little house they'd taken over for the fall would never actually be a home for them. for someone else, sure, but the rikes would be gone by the time the weather turned a little colder.

" she didn't, " cassie laughed, shaking her head. " i think lots of people showed up for her. i must've been just another face in the crowd. " cassie doesn't mention the stuff that happened after, because she wasn't sure it was important. importance always had such a strange place in her life: things that once meant life or death quickly become another foolish tale of youth that she tells little homebodies to seem worldly. " maybe you will. maybe i can even get you on the team. " a wink, a smile, a genuine enjoyment of the other girl's enthusiasm. " you could make a sign. do you own glitter? "

tracy turns, hides, then greets her with her moon - pale face. she wonders if they were raised in the same shadows, black spots that children hide beneath when the sun starts to hurt. " i'd tell you. " soft - spoken and reassuring, cassie loses the edge of tease that had come before. " it won't bore me to death. trust me, i've listened to my sister explain what frog breeds are the best. for hours. nothing can be as boring as that-- okay, i think i'm done with my drawing. are you close? "

it feels like her heart stops for a moment,  because tracy is too stunned by what she says.  no one has ever looked at tracy before and decided she was the reason they’re having a good day;  she’s never had a positive impact on someone like that in a way that feels so simple.  it always feels so strenuous,  the idea of trying to just do right by whoever she’s spending her day with and not mess it up.   likely something her father has engrained in her — the idea that she is a burden,  someone simply in the way,  too weird for anyone to want to spend any real time with because she makes them uncomfortable.  maybe that’s a fact, or maybe it’s all in her head,  but regardless,  when cassie tells her that tracy made her day better,  she doesn’t know what to say.  her mouth opens, but nothing comes out other than a small sigh.  ❝  i definitely don’t have a super power,  ❞   she says quietly with a small smile.   ❝  but—  i’m glad i could make your day better,  because you made mine better,  too.  i like talking to you. ❞   her features match hers,  the same blush across her cheek and the same head tilt,  without realizing she’s even doing it.  she simply smiles back at her,  freer now than the shy one she gave moments ago – because moment by moment, cassie makes her feel more comfortable just being a person at all.

tracy shakes her head quickly when cassie tries to stop herself.   ❝  no,  it’s not.  it’s okay.   i brought it up,  ❞   she says,  only in an effort to settle cassie’s nerves – because she knows she’d need it herself.   a small laugh falls from her lips,  amused more than anything.   ❝  i don’t think you’re an asshole,  for the record,  ❞   she points out before she takes a deep breath, readying to answer the question.   ❝  my mom died when i was younger.  and i guess my dad isn’t great with things that remind him of her.   ❞   that means her parents — and her daughter, too,  tracy the spitting image of her,  even more so as she continues to grow up.  she knows that has to be part of why he resents her so much,  but she tries to bury that fact;  she’d rather be proud to know she looks like her.   her eyes widen at the mention of a volcano.   ❝  wow.  was it pretty?  ❞   she asks,  because she doesn’t know much about volcanos – but she’s intrigued anyway.   ❝  you weren’t scared of it?  ❞    cassie doesn’t seem like someone who would be afraid of anything, but tracy isn’t that naive. 

cassie knows what to say to put tracy at ease.  it’s as simple as this – as some kind of validation that her mother would be proud of what she was doing.  why can’t her own father understand that the way cassie does so quickly?  she’s ready to invite her to come see it before cassie beats her to it,  which only makes tracy smile more.   ❝  i want you to, ❞    she insists,  nodding her head.   ❝  i never get to share it with anyone.  so,  yeah,  i’d like for you to see it. ❞   her nose scrunches after a moment, and she shrugs her shoulders.   ❝ and i’m hardly ever busy.  ❞    at least, not outside of her own plans – so she welcomes the company.

her eyes widen slightly as cassie talks about a crush,  unaware that her cheeks are also turning warmer,  too.   ❝  did she notice you were there?  ❞   she asks curiously,  but mostly — she wants to know if cassie would notice her there,  if she went to one of her games.  she’d want to be there for her either way,  but she can’t help the curiosity.   ❝  i’m not forcing myself to do anything.  maybe i’ll like basketball,  ❞   she says with a small, hopeful smile.   ❝  but i want to be there for you.  okay?  best seats or not.  i’m not very loud, but— i can still find ways to cheer for you.  ❞

tracy keeps her eyes away,  gulping at the reassurance before she slowly turns to look back at her.  there’s relief painting her features,  and she nods her head slowly in response.   ❝  okay, ❞     she says quietly.   ❝  if i did—  you’d tell me?  ❞   she asks,  wanting to at least know what she needs to stop if it comes to that.  she’s not often someone who blurts out the first thing on her mind,  but something about being with cassie here makes it impossible to not.   ❝  i do want to know you.   and i hope whatever you find out about me doesn’t bore you to death. ❞    this time it’s less self-deprecating,  spoken in more of a teasing tone,  even if there’s still truth to it.