#you are an excellent stick with which to beat the blorbo

[tashacee]

It’s safe to say that everyone in the chain has ptsd or trauma of some sort right? I’m thinking about hero’s aspect!Wild having a nightmare and screaming and talking and begging in his sleep and he can’t wake, and the chain has no idea what he’s even experiencing because they can’t understand him

-🪱

OH BOY I know i kind of touched on this in the original Fic, but hell, Worm Anon, you gave me Brain Worms.

Aspects of A Nightmare

He'd been with them for two weeks. Long enough that the chain was starting to feel like they were getting to know him - or at least getting used to him - but not really long enough that they could communicate with Wild in any sort of meaningful way.

It grated. Warriors was a leader of men, 'The Captain', always in control, who prided himself on being able to relate to those he served with. Sure, he wasn't in the army now and his brothers were anything but soldiers, but still. The point was, he liked to know the people he was fighting with, and despite his best efforts he just didn't know Wild.

It was easy to ignore most of the time. Ah, yes, that was Wild. He likes to cook, fights like a maniac, and will straight up pick you up if you're being annoying.

Sometimes, though, their lack of communication was all too obvious.

Like tonight. Wars was on second watch when he heard it. Wild, but not his customary rumble or the soft purrs he made in his sleep. A whine, long and low and distressed. Like a call for help.

Wars dashed over to him, wondering if somehow a monster had invaded the camp while he was turned the other way, but no.

As usual, Wild was sleeping with Wind cuddled up beside him. While their newest brother's blanket was thin and ratty, barely big enough to cover his massive form, Wind's was vast, more than big enough for the both of them.

Wild had somehow gotten himself tangled up in the blanket as he slept. Wars could see him trying to lift his arms, move his legs, but to no avail. He whined in his sleep, the sound pitiful and terrified.

Warriors didn't know what he was dreaming of. Nothing good, that was for sure, especially if it had to do with his current trapped position.

Wild tried to thrash again, and still stuck, he whined.

Wars bent down. Normally waking up a hero was something best done from a distance. They could be a violent lot, especially when woken from nightmares, but. Well.

It wasn't like Wild could move enough to do anything.

Wars gently touched his shoulder and shook him awake. Wild's eyes flew open in a flash, and as expected he bared his teeth, snarling. Not particularly intimidating, though, given that he was currently a giant cat-burrito.

"Hey." Warriors whispered, glancing over at where Wind was somehow still asleep. "You were having a nightmare."

Wild blinked, coming back to himself, and then looked down at the sheets. As if reassuring himself that it was just a blanket. That his nightmare wasn't real.

He whimpered, a low grumbling noise almost as if he was attempting speech. Then he sniffed and began to wiggle out of the blankets. Wars helped him untangle himself, and then guided his massive brother over to the fire.

"It's okay." he said, not knowing if it was true or not. He didn't know what Wild had been dreaming about, after all. It was hard to comfort someone when you didn't know what you were comforting them about. "It- it's over now."

Wild fixed his gaze on him, his lower lip trembling. He made a few more of those almost-word-mostly-grumbles before his face just. Crumpled. Here he was, this massive, musclebound lion man, dissolving into tears.

And Warriors? Warriors froze. He wasn't proud of it, and it was only for a second, but he froze.

Wild was big. He was strong. When Wars shot him through the shoulder the other day he barely flinched. But whatever that nightmare must have been about, it must have been truly, unrelentingly terrible. Warriors could scarcely imagine what could be so horrible that it made someone as big and strong as Wild sob.

Then his body kicked into action. Like waking them up, giving heroes unexpected hugs could go very badly, but Warriors was on autopilot. He gathered Wild into his arms (well, as best he could, with the height difference) and pulled him into a hug, stroking his hair and rubbing the fur on his back.

Wild sobbed into his chest, twisting his hands into his tunic. He may have tried to communicate again, but honestly, Warriors found it hard to distinguish from the sobs and he sort of hated himself for that. He wanted to talk to Wild. He needed to know what had hurt him so very badly, what had taken his arm and left him scarred and sobbing in a strange place in a strange time. He need to know so that he could go and fight it, make it pay for hurting his brother.

But he couldn't do that. So he did the next best thing. He held his brother as he cried, and helped him dry his tears when he finally calmed down. He made him a cup of tea and sat with him until his hands stopped shaking enough that he was ready to go back to bed.

Warriors knew next to nothing about Wild.

But by Hylia, he would do anything to learn.

[hartshorn-and-isinglass]

Doing A Great Job at Being Normal at Concerts

(Hi! I AM A GIANT DORK.)

Okay, so first of all... that concert was amazeballs. Keyboard Blorbo always selects music for these recitals so thoughtfully, and this selection of French music swung on a pendulum from refined courtly delight to thrilling dynamism. Keyboard Blorbo also gave himself an entire chunk of solo pieces in the middle, which I ain't mad about at all. You wouldn't expect dance-based numbers to have you holding your breath in suspense but he enjoys letting the notes sizzle for a bit sometimes, just long enough to fuck with your mind. And I love listening to their resident soprano every time she has an opportunity to perform; she absolutely brought down the freakin' house with the last number.

Senpai brought a helluva fiery edge to this concert. Holy dang. (If I was ever hoping to be more normal about going to see him play, that definitely wasn't in the cards this time. Hnnnnnngggg.) He almost sounded like he had a different instrument under his chin. I think the acoustics in the space were just different enough from the last two venues to enhance the darker and more energetic sound he was putting out there.

Speaking of which, the venue this time was a very cool and very spacious art gallery; I was so mad I dropped the ball on my prep time again and we arrived with only ten minutes to spare (at least we got excellent seats this time, but we had to find them immediately once we arrived). I was so pumped to check out the artwork after the concert, but then at the very end Spouse pulled out his phone and showed me that the program had run over and we were going to have only the thinnest sliver of time to talk to Les Blorbeaux so we had to start stalking Keyboard Blorbo now, LOL.

Whether it was just bad timing given *gestures vaguely* or just that he is an even more hardcore introvert than I was anticipating, he... uh... did not let me get too many words in when I finally managed to flag him down post-concert. Soooo, yeah, didn't really get a chance to tell him, y'know, that his music left an impression on me when I was young and has helped save my sanity for the past two years. I-

I'll be fine.

I'm just a little disappointed.

Not every artist is going to be as gracious or indulgent as J. or Senpai. I know, I know. I've been extraordinarily lucky twice, and it wasn't going to happen every time. I'll get over it.

The other members of the ensemble definitely recognize me now, LOL. I did get to say hi to and thank a bunch of them, which I am glad for, while we were working our way through the crowd towards Senpai--who had made a beeline for the dessert table but was currently engaged in a lively and extensive conversation with someone else. I know this is fucking New York and you're expected to just kinda Kool-Aid Man your way into a conversation if it's urgent but I am not wired to do that, I just can't bear it. So with like four minutes to spare we swooped in the moment they were done, I said hello, got to squeeze in one question, and finally--finally!--introduced myself by name. He was confused--I think he really had assumed that I must have introduced myself before and he had simply forgotten my name. He then warned me that he was terrible at names and I'm thinking to myself--ayo, no offense but even if you're like, super-faceblind, how many alt-girl groupies have you accumulated over the years that I have no hope of sticking out in your memory sdfghjks. To be fair, I know I'm definitely not the only one, but still...

His hand was so soft and warm. Mine was cold as ice and still pretty beat-up from all that lapidary work. I... uh... if I think about that contrast for too long my limbic system kicks my prefrontal cortex out of the driver's seat and takes the wheel. But uh... he apparently does not shake people's hands very often. He looked so confused by the gesture and he held my hand so gently, rotating it from its side-facing orientation to back-of-hand-facing-up, like he was taking my hand to dance and I'm like... uh... what...? ??? What just happened here? God bless this awkward mess.

The question I had, incidentally, led to a tangent about how his E string was being unreliable during the performance, and if someone were to write a concert review, they would probably complain that he sounded scratchy on the high notes. (Cue my cute-aggression activated.) Honestly, it wasn't that bad and the worst of it just kinda added to the vibes in that last piece. I wasn't gonna complain here about it, LOL.

It killed me that we couldn't linger, but he shooed us off telling us to enjoy our dinner, and we had to gay-walk our asses to the other side of downtown to make our reservation at the nice restaurant. It was a very nice meal. Few Italian restaurants in the US do Northern Italian cuisine, so when we do find one it brings back fond memories of our honeymoon in Tuscany and Emilia-Romagna.

So really, overall a grand time, just with some awkwardness and also-

I promise I'll get over it soon. Just give me a moment.