india's recordings & documentation.

unfortunately aware that this blog is public. she/her. // tma lonely oc blog !! more info below <3

[indiaval]

hello.

if you happen to stumble across this blog, pay it no mind. this is simply a way for me to record the events of my life as well as stay somewhat connected to the outside world. thank you.

. . .

/// ok hi! sorry about her she’s emo /j

this is my second EVER tma oc blog woah!!! this is india, taken by the lonely due to Events That May Or May Not Be Revealed. she lives alone on the east coast of the uk and tries her best to talk to people as little as possible. feel free to force her to yap though!! the “..?” is her asks page and i am very happy to answer any questions even though she may not be >:) usual rules apply, no nsfw, questions that prompt angsty answers are always welcome but i’m not the best at acrually role playing real time angst so do with that what you will!!

tag system:

#day, followed by a number: a play by play of india’s day (no rhyme intended)! if you care to figure her out there will be lil clues to find here :)

#thought: something she’s pondering and wanted to write down real fast

#out of the fog: out of character post!

[indiaval]

hello, dear girl.

it's lovely to meet you.

I'm [REDACTED]. I happen to also be a God to you.

How's your descent into the Lonely treating you?

- @i-am-a-god-to-you

a god..?

the descent is going fine. why have you been so unkind to me?

[i-am-a-god-to-you]

That, I'm afraid, wouldn't be me. There is another who holds.... some more power. What I have been able to make happen is, I would like to believe, a net positive.

Do you have any requests of me, child?

[indiaval]

i don't know how powerful you are, but if you could either make the world less loud overall or make me less sensitive to the overwhelming noise, that would be good. i suppose.

[i-am-a-god-to-you]

I.. believe I could do that, yes, child.

[indiaval]

thank you. please ask the god with more power to be kinder.

[i-am-a-god-to-you]

...good luck with that.

[indiaval]

…oh, you weren’t joking.

everything is a bit quieter now.

..thank you, i guess. more sincerely this time.

[indiaval]

hello, dear girl.

it's lovely to meet you.

I'm [REDACTED]. I happen to also be a God to you.

How's your descent into the Lonely treating you?

- @i-am-a-god-to-you

a god..?

the descent is going fine. why have you been so unkind to me?

[i-am-a-god-to-you]

That, I'm afraid, wouldn't be me. There is another who holds.... some more power. What I have been able to make happen is, I would like to believe, a net positive.

Do you have any requests of me, child?

[indiaval]

i don't know how powerful you are, but if you could either make the world less loud overall or make me less sensitive to the overwhelming noise, that would be good. i suppose.

[i-am-a-god-to-you]

I.. believe I could do that, yes, child.

[indiaval]

thank you. please ask the god with more power to be kinder.

[indiaval]

hello, dear girl.

it's lovely to meet you.

I'm [REDACTED]. I happen to also be a God to you.

How's your descent into the Lonely treating you?

- @i-am-a-god-to-you

a god..?

the descent is going fine. why have you been so unkind to me?

[i-am-a-god-to-you]

That, I'm afraid, wouldn't be me. There is another who holds.... some more power. What I have been able to make happen is, I would like to believe, a net positive.

Do you have any requests of me, child?

[indiaval]

i don't know how powerful you are, but if you could either make the world less loud overall or make me less sensitive to the overwhelming noise, that would be good. i suppose.

[indiaval]

hello, dear girl.

it's lovely to meet you.

I'm [REDACTED]. I happen to also be a God to you.

How's your descent into the Lonely treating you?

- @i-am-a-god-to-you

a god..?

the descent is going fine. why have you been so unkind to me?

[indiaval]

Hello, child. Before you so easily hand yourself over to The Fog of The Lonely, would you care to get lunch with me? As a.. final meal, so to speak, before it Takes you.

@child-of-the-web

..hm. perhaps.

but i am not very good with.. words. i tend to get overwhelmed easily. i do not know if it would be nice for you.

[child-of-the-web]

that is quite alright, my dear! i have no objection to existing merely in companionable silence, if you would prefer it.

[indiaval]

if.. you can come where i am. i think i could manage that. i do not do well in public spaces. you are one of the Mother’s children, no? you should have no problem finding me.

[child-of-the-web]

i can do that, indeed. would you like me to come now?

[indiaval]

it makes no difference to me when you come. so now is fine. speak quietly when you arrive, please.

[child-of-the-web]

[it took them a moment to grab something, before they stepped into the Web and emerged beside her. they were careful not to startle her as they stepped into her line of sight. they didn't speak a greeting -- simply nodded at her respectfully. they held a small erasable whiteboard and marker in their hand.]

[they held it up.]

Would you prefer I write?

[indiaval]

[they have arrived outside a small wooden cabin by the sea. the fog is thick, making the ocean waves barely visible, and the air is so cold it almost bites. india has emerged from the doorway, in an orange fur-lined parka. she looks down at the whiteboard, and then back up at them. her face barely changes, but they can see the faintest hint of relief in her eyes. she nods, and beckons them to come in.]

[child-of-the-web]

you have a nice house

[They write, smiling at her as they enter.]

[indiaval]

[she smiles back. it’s quite… old fashioned. they can see a wood stove, oil lamps, a kettle on the stove, and barely any electrical outlets. she stops in the kitchen, and gestures for them to sit in one of the wooden chairs while she tends to the food on the stove, occasionally glancing back at them.]

[child-of-the-web]

[They sat, pulling a book from their satchel and beginning to read. They really had meant that offer of companionable silence.]

[indiaval]

[after a while, she sets down lunch— a grilled cheese on what seemed to be homemade sourdough bread, and tomato soup. she waves her arm across it to indicate it’s still hot.]

[child-of-the-web]

That looks wonderful, dear child.

[They set the book down and served themselves and her.]

[indiaval]

[she walks out of the room for a moment, soon coming back with a notepad and a pen. she sits across from them, writing.]

thank you

[she pauses, and then continues]

thank you for coming

[child-of-the-web]

you're most welcome, child.

[They took a bite of the food.]

My dear, this is amazing!

[indiaval]

[she erases ‘for coming’, just leaving ‘thank you’. a pause, as they both eat. india seems to be biting the inside of her lip. eventually, she erases everything and starts over.]

sorry

[child-of-the-web]

what for, my dear?

[They arched and eyebrow quizzically.]

[indiaval]

i don’t have much to say

this likely isn’t a very enjoyable gathering for you

[child-of-the-web]

It's perfectly alright, my dear! I did offer companiable silence, did I not?

[They smiled at her.]

[indiaval]

i suppose.

if you’re sure you don’t mind.

[child-of-the-web]

[They looked around for a second, eyes catching on a picture. Two girls standing either side of a clumsily made snowman. He.. recognises both of them. One is India; that much is evident. The other...]

that is.. spirals, yes? Ophelia, I think their name is?

[indiaval]

[her eyes dart over to the picture. silently, she gets up, walks to it, and flips it so it’s face down on the shelf. she sits back down, staring at the table.]

[child-of-the-web]

...well. that's interesting.

[They don't make any further comment, simply eat their meal in silence.]

[indiaval]

[after a while, she seems to give in to some subconscious urge and takes the picture and places it on the table. she looks down at it with an almost unreadable expression before writing again.]

you can see the spiral, even when she was this young. it’s in her eyes.

[child-of-the-web]

Is that such a bad thing?

[Their body language gave nothing away about the sentiment behind the question.]

[indiaval]

i think it is. but if you are a part of it, i won’t judge you for it.

[child-of-the-web]

Oh, no, dear. I'm of The Web, through and through. I meant for her. She seemed like a nice enough girl when I met her, if a little forlorn.

[indiaval]

[india pauses for a long, long moment, before simply writing]

she means well

[child-of-the-web]

And yet...?

[indiaval]

[her pen is raised on the paper for a long moment, but to their surprise, she drops it, looks up, and speaks. her voice is hoarse and quiet, as if she barely uses it.]

… she— we cannot be conveyed through mere pen and paper.

[child-of-the-web]

[They raised an eyebrow, but didn't speak, waiting expectantly for her to elaborate.]

[indiaval]

… we grew up together. i used to think i knew her better than she knew herself. i now know that is wrong.

i believe she still feels that way about me, however.

[child-of-the-web]

[They put their pen to their board and stopped for a moment. Waited. And then wrote.]

you still care for her. I can tell.

[indiaval]

i never denied that.

you can speak, if you’d like. quietly.

[child-of-the-web]

you.. love her, then?

[Their voice was soft, quiet.]

[indiaval]

of course i do. to deny it would be ridiculous.

[child-of-the-web]

so why.. what is the issue, child?

[indiaval]

…

the sound of my own voice is piercing, anansi. the light of the sun is blinding. i need a quiet life. i need.. rest.

she is restless. she found a place in the city. she wants fame, recognition, her name in lights.

she wants me to be there with her.

do you.. see now?

[child-of-the-web]

[they nodded slowly.]

I see.

[A pause.]

moving on, my dear..

[indiaval]

alright.

..would you.. like to see.. something i painted?

[child-of-the-web]

[They switched back to writing, noting discomfort she wouldn't admit to.]

that would be lovely, dear.

[indiaval]

[she nods, standing and motioning for them to follow.

eventually, they reach a room that has a rather elaborate computer setup, an almost comically modern object in contrast to the old wood of the rest of the house. beside it, though, is a canvas. it’s a painting of the house itself, with a view of the sea. the colors are muted, blending together, but it’s beautiful. almost realistic and fantastical at the same time.]

it’s.. not quite finished. i’m not happy with the sky. it needs to be a bit darker.

[child-of-the-web]

[Their eyes widened in awe at the painting and in appreciation at the computer.]

That is.. a gorgeous painting.

[indiaval]

..thank you.

[child-of-the-web]

[They placed a hand gently on her shoulder. The touch was barely there, but still comforting.]

[indiaval]

[she initially stiffens at the touch, almost as if instinct, but after a moment, she relaxes. she doesn't quite lean into it, but she lets it happen as she gazes at the painting, clearly lost in thought.]

[child-of-the-web]

[They smiled at her but didn't say a word. They were planning.]

[indiaval]

[her eyes drift over to the computer as she realizes she hadn't explained that yet.]

i'm a programmer. little to no social interaction. code doesn't have feelings. it's nice.

i don't like technology, much, though. this is all i have. or want.

[child-of-the-web]

that's nice. I code and design personalised web advertisements.

[indiaval]

oh. i didn’t know we were in the same field.

…web advertisements. that’s funny.

[child-of-the-web]

Indeed. It was rather intentional.

[indiaval]

[it’s silent for a moment, before she turns to face them properly. it’s the first time she’s fully made eye contact with them, and her gray-blue eyes somehow manage to be dull and piercing at the same time.]

..why are you here, anansi?

[child-of-the-web]

simply to give you a little positive company before you decide to enter the Fog, my dear.

[indiaval]

hm.

alright.

[she glances back towards the window, where the fog is so thick you can barely see past the shoreline]

i can hear it. the fog. it’s… gentle. it’s nice.

[child-of-the-web]

[They nodded slightly. The fog seems to lean towards them a little bit too.]

[indiaval]

..you can hear it too. not as much as i can, but.. i know you've felt it before.

it's.. nice to have that in common.

[child-of-the-web]

I have felt it.

[They didn't write any more for a moment, then..]

I believe I am outstaying my welcome, my dear child.

[indiaval]

..maybe. but i’m not as upset as i usually am when company comes.

[indiaval]

Hello, child. Before you so easily hand yourself over to The Fog of The Lonely, would you care to get lunch with me? As a.. final meal, so to speak, before it Takes you.

@child-of-the-web

..hm. perhaps.

but i am not very good with.. words. i tend to get overwhelmed easily. i do not know if it would be nice for you.

[child-of-the-web]

that is quite alright, my dear! i have no objection to existing merely in companionable silence, if you would prefer it.

[indiaval]

if.. you can come where i am. i think i could manage that. i do not do well in public spaces. you are one of the Mother’s children, no? you should have no problem finding me.

[child-of-the-web]

i can do that, indeed. would you like me to come now?

[indiaval]

it makes no difference to me when you come. so now is fine. speak quietly when you arrive, please.

[child-of-the-web]

[it took them a moment to grab something, before they stepped into the Web and emerged beside her. they were careful not to startle her as they stepped into her line of sight. they didn't speak a greeting -- simply nodded at her respectfully. they held a small erasable whiteboard and marker in their hand.]

[they held it up.]

Would you prefer I write?

[indiaval]

[they have arrived outside a small wooden cabin by the sea. the fog is thick, making the ocean waves barely visible, and the air is so cold it almost bites. india has emerged from the doorway, in an orange fur-lined parka. she looks down at the whiteboard, and then back up at them. her face barely changes, but they can see the faintest hint of relief in her eyes. she nods, and beckons them to come in.]

[child-of-the-web]

you have a nice house

[They write, smiling at her as they enter.]

[indiaval]

[she smiles back. it’s quite… old fashioned. they can see a wood stove, oil lamps, a kettle on the stove, and barely any electrical outlets. she stops in the kitchen, and gestures for them to sit in one of the wooden chairs while she tends to the food on the stove, occasionally glancing back at them.]

[child-of-the-web]

[They sat, pulling a book from their satchel and beginning to read. They really had meant that offer of companionable silence.]

[indiaval]

[after a while, she sets down lunch— a grilled cheese on what seemed to be homemade sourdough bread, and tomato soup. she waves her arm across it to indicate it’s still hot.]

[child-of-the-web]

That looks wonderful, dear child.

[They set the book down and served themselves and her.]

[indiaval]

[she walks out of the room for a moment, soon coming back with a notepad and a pen. she sits across from them, writing.]

thank you

[she pauses, and then continues]

thank you for coming

[child-of-the-web]

you're most welcome, child.

[They took a bite of the food.]

My dear, this is amazing!

[indiaval]

[she erases ‘for coming’, just leaving ‘thank you’. a pause, as they both eat. india seems to be biting the inside of her lip. eventually, she erases everything and starts over.]

sorry

[child-of-the-web]

what for, my dear?

[They arched and eyebrow quizzically.]

[indiaval]

i don’t have much to say

this likely isn’t a very enjoyable gathering for you

[child-of-the-web]

It's perfectly alright, my dear! I did offer companiable silence, did I not?

[They smiled at her.]

[indiaval]

i suppose.

if you’re sure you don’t mind.

[child-of-the-web]

[They looked around for a second, eyes catching on a picture. Two girls standing either side of a clumsily made snowman. He.. recognises both of them. One is India; that much is evident. The other...]

that is.. spirals, yes? Ophelia, I think their name is?

[indiaval]

[her eyes dart over to the picture. silently, she gets up, walks to it, and flips it so it’s face down on the shelf. she sits back down, staring at the table.]

[child-of-the-web]

...well. that's interesting.

[They don't make any further comment, simply eat their meal in silence.]

[indiaval]

[after a while, she seems to give in to some subconscious urge and takes the picture and places it on the table. she looks down at it with an almost unreadable expression before writing again.]

you can see the spiral, even when she was this young. it’s in her eyes.

[child-of-the-web]

Is that such a bad thing?

[Their body language gave nothing away about the sentiment behind the question.]

[indiaval]

i think it is. but if you are a part of it, i won’t judge you for it.

[child-of-the-web]

Oh, no, dear. I'm of The Web, through and through. I meant for her. She seemed like a nice enough girl when I met her, if a little forlorn.

[indiaval]

[india pauses for a long, long moment, before simply writing]

she means well

[child-of-the-web]

And yet...?

[indiaval]

[her pen is raised on the paper for a long moment, but to their surprise, she drops it, looks up, and speaks. her voice is hoarse and quiet, as if she barely uses it.]

… she— we cannot be conveyed through mere pen and paper.

[child-of-the-web]

[They raised an eyebrow, but didn't speak, waiting expectantly for her to elaborate.]

[indiaval]

… we grew up together. i used to think i knew her better than she knew herself. i now know that is wrong.

i believe she still feels that way about me, however.

[child-of-the-web]

[They put their pen to their board and stopped for a moment. Waited. And then wrote.]

you still care for her. I can tell.

[indiaval]

i never denied that.

you can speak, if you’d like. quietly.

[child-of-the-web]

you.. love her, then?

[Their voice was soft, quiet.]

[indiaval]

of course i do. to deny it would be ridiculous.

[child-of-the-web]

so why.. what is the issue, child?

[indiaval]

…

the sound of my own voice is piercing, anansi. the light of the sun is blinding. i need a quiet life. i need.. rest.

she is restless. she found a place in the city. she wants fame, recognition, her name in lights.

she wants me to be there with her.

do you.. see now?

[child-of-the-web]

[they nodded slowly.]

I see.

[A pause.]

moving on, my dear..

[indiaval]

alright.

..would you.. like to see.. something i painted?

[child-of-the-web]

[They switched back to writing, noting discomfort she wouldn't admit to.]

that would be lovely, dear.

[indiaval]

[she nods, standing and motioning for them to follow.

eventually, they reach a room that has a rather elaborate computer setup, an almost comically modern object in contrast to the old wood of the rest of the house. beside it, though, is a canvas. it’s a painting of the house itself, with a view of the sea. the colors are muted, blending together, but it’s beautiful. almost realistic and fantastical at the same time.]

it’s.. not quite finished. i’m not happy with the sky. it needs to be a bit darker.

[child-of-the-web]

[Their eyes widened in awe at the painting and in appreciation at the computer.]

That is.. a gorgeous painting.

[indiaval]

..thank you.

[child-of-the-web]

[They placed a hand gently on her shoulder. The touch was barely there, but still comforting.]

[indiaval]

[she initially stiffens at the touch, almost as if instinct, but after a moment, she relaxes. she doesn't quite lean into it, but she lets it happen as she gazes at the painting, clearly lost in thought.]

[child-of-the-web]

[They smiled at her but didn't say a word. They were planning.]

[indiaval]

[her eyes drift over to the computer as she realizes she hadn't explained that yet.]

i'm a programmer. little to no social interaction. code doesn't have feelings. it's nice.

i don't like technology, much, though. this is all i have. or want.

[child-of-the-web]

that's nice. I code and design personalised web advertisements.

[indiaval]

oh. i didn’t know we were in the same field.

…web advertisements. that’s funny.

[child-of-the-web]

Indeed. It was rather intentional.

[indiaval]

[it’s silent for a moment, before she turns to face them properly. it’s the first time she’s fully made eye contact with them, and her gray-blue eyes somehow manage to be dull and piercing at the same time.]

..why are you here, anansi?

[child-of-the-web]

simply to give you a little positive company before you decide to enter the Fog, my dear.

[indiaval]

hm.

alright.

[she glances back towards the window, where the fog is so thick you can barely see past the shoreline]

i can hear it. the fog. it’s… gentle. it’s nice.

[child-of-the-web]

[They nodded slightly. The fog seems to lean towards them a little bit too.]

[indiaval]

..you can hear it too. not as much as i can, but.. i know you've felt it before.

it's.. nice to have that in common.

[indiaval]

Hello, child. Before you so easily hand yourself over to The Fog of The Lonely, would you care to get lunch with me? As a.. final meal, so to speak, before it Takes you.

@child-of-the-web

..hm. perhaps.

but i am not very good with.. words. i tend to get overwhelmed easily. i do not know if it would be nice for you.

[child-of-the-web]

that is quite alright, my dear! i have no objection to existing merely in companionable silence, if you would prefer it.

[indiaval]

if.. you can come where i am. i think i could manage that. i do not do well in public spaces. you are one of the Mother’s children, no? you should have no problem finding me.

[child-of-the-web]

i can do that, indeed. would you like me to come now?

[indiaval]

it makes no difference to me when you come. so now is fine. speak quietly when you arrive, please.

[child-of-the-web]

[it took them a moment to grab something, before they stepped into the Web and emerged beside her. they were careful not to startle her as they stepped into her line of sight. they didn't speak a greeting -- simply nodded at her respectfully. they held a small erasable whiteboard and marker in their hand.]

[they held it up.]

Would you prefer I write?

[indiaval]

[they have arrived outside a small wooden cabin by the sea. the fog is thick, making the ocean waves barely visible, and the air is so cold it almost bites. india has emerged from the doorway, in an orange fur-lined parka. she looks down at the whiteboard, and then back up at them. her face barely changes, but they can see the faintest hint of relief in her eyes. she nods, and beckons them to come in.]

[child-of-the-web]

you have a nice house

[They write, smiling at her as they enter.]

[indiaval]

[she smiles back. it’s quite… old fashioned. they can see a wood stove, oil lamps, a kettle on the stove, and barely any electrical outlets. she stops in the kitchen, and gestures for them to sit in one of the wooden chairs while she tends to the food on the stove, occasionally glancing back at them.]

[child-of-the-web]

[They sat, pulling a book from their satchel and beginning to read. They really had meant that offer of companionable silence.]

[indiaval]

[after a while, she sets down lunch— a grilled cheese on what seemed to be homemade sourdough bread, and tomato soup. she waves her arm across it to indicate it’s still hot.]

[child-of-the-web]

That looks wonderful, dear child.

[They set the book down and served themselves and her.]

[indiaval]

[she walks out of the room for a moment, soon coming back with a notepad and a pen. she sits across from them, writing.]

thank you

[she pauses, and then continues]

thank you for coming

[child-of-the-web]

you're most welcome, child.

[They took a bite of the food.]

My dear, this is amazing!

[indiaval]

[she erases ‘for coming’, just leaving ‘thank you’. a pause, as they both eat. india seems to be biting the inside of her lip. eventually, she erases everything and starts over.]

sorry

[child-of-the-web]

what for, my dear?

[They arched and eyebrow quizzically.]

[indiaval]

i don’t have much to say

this likely isn’t a very enjoyable gathering for you

[child-of-the-web]

It's perfectly alright, my dear! I did offer companiable silence, did I not?

[They smiled at her.]

[indiaval]

i suppose.

if you’re sure you don’t mind.

[child-of-the-web]

[They looked around for a second, eyes catching on a picture. Two girls standing either side of a clumsily made snowman. He.. recognises both of them. One is India; that much is evident. The other...]

that is.. spirals, yes? Ophelia, I think their name is?

[indiaval]

[her eyes dart over to the picture. silently, she gets up, walks to it, and flips it so it’s face down on the shelf. she sits back down, staring at the table.]

[child-of-the-web]

...well. that's interesting.

[They don't make any further comment, simply eat their meal in silence.]

[indiaval]

[after a while, she seems to give in to some subconscious urge and takes the picture and places it on the table. she looks down at it with an almost unreadable expression before writing again.]

you can see the spiral, even when she was this young. it’s in her eyes.

[child-of-the-web]

Is that such a bad thing?

[Their body language gave nothing away about the sentiment behind the question.]

[indiaval]

i think it is. but if you are a part of it, i won’t judge you for it.

[child-of-the-web]

Oh, no, dear. I'm of The Web, through and through. I meant for her. She seemed like a nice enough girl when I met her, if a little forlorn.

[indiaval]

[india pauses for a long, long moment, before simply writing]

she means well

[child-of-the-web]

And yet...?

[indiaval]

[her pen is raised on the paper for a long moment, but to their surprise, she drops it, looks up, and speaks. her voice is hoarse and quiet, as if she barely uses it.]

… she— we cannot be conveyed through mere pen and paper.

[child-of-the-web]

[They raised an eyebrow, but didn't speak, waiting expectantly for her to elaborate.]

[indiaval]

… we grew up together. i used to think i knew her better than she knew herself. i now know that is wrong.

i believe she still feels that way about me, however.

[child-of-the-web]

[They put their pen to their board and stopped for a moment. Waited. And then wrote.]

you still care for her. I can tell.

[indiaval]

i never denied that.

you can speak, if you’d like. quietly.

[child-of-the-web]

you.. love her, then?

[Their voice was soft, quiet.]

[indiaval]

of course i do. to deny it would be ridiculous.

[child-of-the-web]

so why.. what is the issue, child?

[indiaval]

…

the sound of my own voice is piercing, anansi. the light of the sun is blinding. i need a quiet life. i need.. rest.

she is restless. she found a place in the city. she wants fame, recognition, her name in lights.

she wants me to be there with her.

do you.. see now?

[child-of-the-web]

[they nodded slowly.]

I see.

[A pause.]

moving on, my dear..

[indiaval]

alright.

..would you.. like to see.. something i painted?

[child-of-the-web]

[They switched back to writing, noting discomfort she wouldn't admit to.]

that would be lovely, dear.

[indiaval]

[she nods, standing and motioning for them to follow.

eventually, they reach a room that has a rather elaborate computer setup, an almost comically modern object in contrast to the old wood of the rest of the house. beside it, though, is a canvas. it’s a painting of the house itself, with a view of the sea. the colors are muted, blending together, but it’s beautiful. almost realistic and fantastical at the same time.]

it’s.. not quite finished. i’m not happy with the sky. it needs to be a bit darker.

[child-of-the-web]

[Their eyes widened in awe at the painting and in appreciation at the computer.]

That is.. a gorgeous painting.

[indiaval]

..thank you.

[child-of-the-web]

[They placed a hand gently on her shoulder. The touch was barely there, but still comforting.]

[indiaval]

[she initially stiffens at the touch, almost as if instinct, but after a moment, she relaxes. she doesn't quite lean into it, but she lets it happen as she gazes at the painting, clearly lost in thought.]

[child-of-the-web]

[They smiled at her but didn't say a word. They were planning.]

[indiaval]

[her eyes drift over to the computer as she realizes she hadn't explained that yet.]

i'm a programmer. little to no social interaction. code doesn't have feelings. it's nice.

i don't like technology, much, though. this is all i have. or want.

[child-of-the-web]

that's nice. I code and design personalised web advertisements.

[indiaval]

oh. i didn’t know we were in the same field.

…web advertisements. that’s funny.

[child-of-the-web]

Indeed. It was rather intentional.

[indiaval]

[it’s silent for a moment, before she turns to face them properly. it’s the first time she’s fully made eye contact with them, and her gray-blue eyes somehow manage to be dull and piercing at the same time.]

..why are you here, anansi?

[child-of-the-web]

simply to give you a little positive company before you decide to enter the Fog, my dear.

[indiaval]

hm.

alright.

[she glances back towards the window, where the fog is so thick you can barely see past the shoreline]

i can hear it. the fog. it’s… gentle. it’s nice.

[indiaval]

[Ophelia balanced a bouquet of dull white and soft blue flowers with one arm as she knocked on the door. After a moment of no response, they walked around the back of the house and pushed open a fogged over window]

hElLo????? IndIA????? Are you in hereeeee?

@the-spiraling-artist

[there is still no response, but the still-running water of the sink implies that she was there a moment ago and simply moved rooms.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Determined, Ophelia crosses over to the next window. She wipes the sleeve of her sweater across the cloudy surface to peer inside.]

[indiaval]

[as she wipes off the fog, india’s face is revealed at the window. she looks… more pale than the last time they saw each other. almost more translucent, in a way. like she was close to fading into nothing entirely.

her eyes widen, and she gasps. the window fills with fog once more.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[ Ophelia squeals and falls back from the window in surprise, clutching her chest as the swirls of color she was trying so hard to dim for this visit return to her skin and hair with a flourish. After a few moments to breathe and smooth back down her twisting hair she pushes the window open and sticks her head and arms inside]

IiiiiiiiindIA?

[indiaval]

[eventually, after a very long moment, she emerges, plugging her ears. she says nothing, and can barely look at her, her attention focused on the space to the left of her instead.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia smiles as India comes into sight but it quickly fades into a grimace at the state of her old lover. She tries (and fails) to squeeze through the small window. ]

InDIa! OhhHHhhh it’s so good to see you! Are you sIcK? You don’t look too good. Have you been getting enough rEst? Eating enough??? Why are you plugging your eArs like that? Should I be quieter? Is sensitive hearing a symptom of a bug? That sounds just AWfull! Oops. Too loud. Hey honey can you give me a hand here? I think I’m stuck.

[indiaval]

[she winces at the initially loud volume, but the whispering seems to calm her a bit. she hesitates, and eventually opens the window fully. still not touching her, but at least giving her room to come in.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

thank youuuuuu

[she wiggles the rest of the way through the window and slumps unceremoniously to the floor]

ouch.

[Ophelia looks up at India and flashes her their best “winning smile”. In reality, the smile ends up far longer than your usual, socially-acceptable- and - logically- compatible-with-a human-face smile]

Heyyyyyyyyyyy

I brought… apology flowers?

[indiaval]

[india takes the flowers and places them near the sink, presumably to put in a vase later. she remains by the counter, watching ophelia carefully. she’s still silent.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[After a moment Ophelia awkwardly coughs and keeps talking to fill the silence]

Sooooooooooooooo

I got the cookies. And the note, thank you by the way, so I kinda took that as you telling me it was okay to reach out again and I really really miss you and I wanted to say sORry- sorry- for trying to drag you into all this spiral business with me and not listening when u told me to fuck off and oh shit I'm rambling again aren't I you always hated that uh-

I would like to try. To find compromises so we can make this work again. Or at least see each other every once in a while? I miss you a lOT- a lot.

[indiaval]

[she’s still silent for a moment, and ophelia begins to worry she won’t say anything at all, but just before she tries to talk again, india speaks. her voice is rough, almost unfamiliar, and barely above a whisper.]

..i didn’t send you anything. you sent me those.

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia pauses for a moment at the sound of her voice and the fact that she was FINALLY speaking before registering what it was she had actually said]

…

huh?

[indiaval]

…

i got.. your package. i did not send you anything.

[the-spiraling-artist]

hah uh no

I didn’t send you a package. I mean unless you count that painting from a few months ago but no cookies. You sent me cookies. And a cute little note to go with it.

[indiaval]

..no, i..

… i don’t think either of us sent anything.

[the-spiraling-artist]

then who the fuck did??? And why???

I haven’t talked to anyone for months, besides fOod- sorry- no one who knows about you and I seriously doubt you’ve had much of a social life either. No offense, of course, but you’ve always liked to be alone and I seriously doubt that’s improved since you disappeared.

the only I can think of is spectre but this kind of stunt seems entirely out of character for them…

[indiaval]

it .. doesn’t matter.

it must have been a mistake.

so there’s no point in.. this.

goodbye, ophelia.

[the-spiraling-artist]

whAT? NO!

[Ophelia momentarily loses their careful control over their form, bursting into an eyesore of colors and lights before settling back into her more human form and calming herself] gOd, I’m sorry, one moment please

…

I don’t think it matters what made me seek you out. I think it was a sign. Snow Angel, you look horrible. Well, I mean, you’re no less beautiful but you’re fading. How long have you been in isOlAtion?-sorry, isolation. I know the lonely has always had some grip on you but this? This is worrying.

Listen, we don’t have to talk. But can I stay a little longer? We can have tea and you can lend me a book you’ve liked recently so we can both read. Or we could go on a sea side walk! If you kept any of my old painting supplies we could paint the ocean like we used to. Or…. It is snowing. Do you… hehe… 🎶do u wanna build a snowmannnnn?🎶

[indiaval]

[india looks away as the flash of colors blinds her. eyes closed and ears plugged, she takes a deep breath and swallows.]

…i’m fine.

i don’t…

you and i both know you cannot be quiet for that long.

[the-spiraling-artist]

Let me try?

[They move their hand across their mouth in a zipping motion, turn the “key”, and then mime eating said key before looking up at India with a small smile]

[indiaval]

[she bites the inside of her lip, clearly having a rather intense internal battle. she’s silent, but it’s clear she’s thinking, rather than ignoring her.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia stays where she is and stays silent as she waits for a response]

[indiaval]

…….

one walk along the ocean.

no second chances.

no trying to “save me”.

it’s just a walk.

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia’s eyes light up in the less literal sense and they slowly make their way to the door, handing India the jacket hung up next to it as an old habit from when they’d taken this walk in the early mornings all those years back]

[indiaval]

[she looks at ophelia for a long moment before taking the jacket and putting it on, pulling the hood so tightly that only her eyes are visible before they walk out.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia slows her pace to match India’s so they can walk next to each other, fighting the instinct to hold her hand in order to give her space to breathe. They make their way down the pathway that leads to the shore, the sea itself dull in response to the gray sky looming over it.]

[indiaval]

[she's quiet as they walk, looking out towards the sea instead of at ophelia. eventually, they reach the shore, and india stops, her gaze still fixed on the crashing waves. she almost looks like she's longing for them to come closer.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[After they walk about half way across the span of easily accessible beach she crouches down to pick up a few flat round stones. She stands again, flashing India a smug look, and then confidently throws the rocks into the water in a sad attempt to skip them. She then proceeds to walk as if nothing happened, pride thoroughly wounded]

[indiaval]

[india used to laugh at those kinds of things, but she doesn't now, just walking beside her.]

... if there's something you want to talk about, don't wait for me to start the conversation.

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia stubbornly shakes her head, pressing her finger to lips to communicate that she intends to stay quiet just liked she promised. Ophelia was never one to give up when she set herself to a goal, even a goal as mundane as a silent walk.]

[indiaval]

hm.

…alright.

[they continue to walk.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[The rest of the walk is peaceful, Ophelia’s nervous energy melting away with the comforting sounds of the rise and fall of the tide and of the feet beside theirs. True to their word, they do manage to stay completely silent for the half hour or so it takes to cross the length of the beach and walk back to the house.]

[indiaval]

[india walks back into the house, not quite signifying whether or not she wants ophelia to follow her in.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia follows silent, all the way to the door. She stops right outside it.]

That walk was just as beautiful as I remember it. It’s such a contrast to what my life looks like nowadays. I mean, this place feels so empty but I think I missed it. I definitely missed you.

[indiaval]

..it was.. beautiful. yes.

[she stands inside the doorframe, hesitating for a long moment, before sighing and asking almost resignedly]

do you still like your tea the same way?

[indiaval]

Hello, child. Before you so easily hand yourself over to The Fog of The Lonely, would you care to get lunch with me? As a.. final meal, so to speak, before it Takes you.

@child-of-the-web

..hm. perhaps.

but i am not very good with.. words. i tend to get overwhelmed easily. i do not know if it would be nice for you.

[child-of-the-web]

that is quite alright, my dear! i have no objection to existing merely in companionable silence, if you would prefer it.

[indiaval]

if.. you can come where i am. i think i could manage that. i do not do well in public spaces. you are one of the Mother’s children, no? you should have no problem finding me.

[child-of-the-web]

i can do that, indeed. would you like me to come now?

[indiaval]

it makes no difference to me when you come. so now is fine. speak quietly when you arrive, please.

[child-of-the-web]

[it took them a moment to grab something, before they stepped into the Web and emerged beside her. they were careful not to startle her as they stepped into her line of sight. they didn't speak a greeting -- simply nodded at her respectfully. they held a small erasable whiteboard and marker in their hand.]

[they held it up.]

Would you prefer I write?

[indiaval]

[they have arrived outside a small wooden cabin by the sea. the fog is thick, making the ocean waves barely visible, and the air is so cold it almost bites. india has emerged from the doorway, in an orange fur-lined parka. she looks down at the whiteboard, and then back up at them. her face barely changes, but they can see the faintest hint of relief in her eyes. she nods, and beckons them to come in.]

[child-of-the-web]

you have a nice house

[They write, smiling at her as they enter.]

[indiaval]

[she smiles back. it’s quite… old fashioned. they can see a wood stove, oil lamps, a kettle on the stove, and barely any electrical outlets. she stops in the kitchen, and gestures for them to sit in one of the wooden chairs while she tends to the food on the stove, occasionally glancing back at them.]

[child-of-the-web]

[They sat, pulling a book from their satchel and beginning to read. They really had meant that offer of companionable silence.]

[indiaval]

[after a while, she sets down lunch— a grilled cheese on what seemed to be homemade sourdough bread, and tomato soup. she waves her arm across it to indicate it’s still hot.]

[child-of-the-web]

That looks wonderful, dear child.

[They set the book down and served themselves and her.]

[indiaval]

[she walks out of the room for a moment, soon coming back with a notepad and a pen. she sits across from them, writing.]

thank you

[she pauses, and then continues]

thank you for coming

[child-of-the-web]

you're most welcome, child.

[They took a bite of the food.]

My dear, this is amazing!

[indiaval]

[she erases ‘for coming’, just leaving ‘thank you’. a pause, as they both eat. india seems to be biting the inside of her lip. eventually, she erases everything and starts over.]

sorry

[child-of-the-web]

what for, my dear?

[They arched and eyebrow quizzically.]

[indiaval]

i don’t have much to say

this likely isn’t a very enjoyable gathering for you

[child-of-the-web]

It's perfectly alright, my dear! I did offer companiable silence, did I not?

[They smiled at her.]

[indiaval]

i suppose.

if you’re sure you don’t mind.

[child-of-the-web]

[They looked around for a second, eyes catching on a picture. Two girls standing either side of a clumsily made snowman. He.. recognises both of them. One is India; that much is evident. The other...]

that is.. spirals, yes? Ophelia, I think their name is?

[indiaval]

[her eyes dart over to the picture. silently, she gets up, walks to it, and flips it so it’s face down on the shelf. she sits back down, staring at the table.]

[child-of-the-web]

...well. that's interesting.

[They don't make any further comment, simply eat their meal in silence.]

[indiaval]

[after a while, she seems to give in to some subconscious urge and takes the picture and places it on the table. she looks down at it with an almost unreadable expression before writing again.]

you can see the spiral, even when she was this young. it’s in her eyes.

[child-of-the-web]

Is that such a bad thing?

[Their body language gave nothing away about the sentiment behind the question.]

[indiaval]

i think it is. but if you are a part of it, i won’t judge you for it.

[child-of-the-web]

Oh, no, dear. I'm of The Web, through and through. I meant for her. She seemed like a nice enough girl when I met her, if a little forlorn.

[indiaval]

[india pauses for a long, long moment, before simply writing]

she means well

[child-of-the-web]

And yet...?

[indiaval]

[her pen is raised on the paper for a long moment, but to their surprise, she drops it, looks up, and speaks. her voice is hoarse and quiet, as if she barely uses it.]

… she— we cannot be conveyed through mere pen and paper.

[child-of-the-web]

[They raised an eyebrow, but didn't speak, waiting expectantly for her to elaborate.]

[indiaval]

… we grew up together. i used to think i knew her better than she knew herself. i now know that is wrong.

i believe she still feels that way about me, however.

[child-of-the-web]

[They put their pen to their board and stopped for a moment. Waited. And then wrote.]

you still care for her. I can tell.

[indiaval]

i never denied that.

you can speak, if you’d like. quietly.

[child-of-the-web]

you.. love her, then?

[Their voice was soft, quiet.]

[indiaval]

of course i do. to deny it would be ridiculous.

[child-of-the-web]

so why.. what is the issue, child?

[indiaval]

…

the sound of my own voice is piercing, anansi. the light of the sun is blinding. i need a quiet life. i need.. rest.

she is restless. she found a place in the city. she wants fame, recognition, her name in lights.

she wants me to be there with her.

do you.. see now?

[child-of-the-web]

[they nodded slowly.]

I see.

[A pause.]

moving on, my dear..

[indiaval]

alright.

..would you.. like to see.. something i painted?

[child-of-the-web]

[They switched back to writing, noting discomfort she wouldn't admit to.]

that would be lovely, dear.

[indiaval]

[she nods, standing and motioning for them to follow.

eventually, they reach a room that has a rather elaborate computer setup, an almost comically modern object in contrast to the old wood of the rest of the house. beside it, though, is a canvas. it’s a painting of the house itself, with a view of the sea. the colors are muted, blending together, but it’s beautiful. almost realistic and fantastical at the same time.]

it’s.. not quite finished. i’m not happy with the sky. it needs to be a bit darker.

[child-of-the-web]

[Their eyes widened in awe at the painting and in appreciation at the computer.]

That is.. a gorgeous painting.

[indiaval]

..thank you.

[child-of-the-web]

[They placed a hand gently on her shoulder. The touch was barely there, but still comforting.]

[indiaval]

[she initially stiffens at the touch, almost as if instinct, but after a moment, she relaxes. she doesn't quite lean into it, but she lets it happen as she gazes at the painting, clearly lost in thought.]

[child-of-the-web]

[They smiled at her but didn't say a word. They were planning.]

[indiaval]

[her eyes drift over to the computer as she realizes she hadn't explained that yet.]

i'm a programmer. little to no social interaction. code doesn't have feelings. it's nice.

i don't like technology, much, though. this is all i have. or want.

[child-of-the-web]

that's nice. I code and design personalised web advertisements.

[indiaval]

oh. i didn’t know we were in the same field.

…web advertisements. that’s funny.

[child-of-the-web]

Indeed. It was rather intentional.

[indiaval]

[it’s silent for a moment, before she turns to face them properly. it’s the first time she’s fully made eye contact with them, and her gray-blue eyes somehow manage to be dull and piercing at the same time.]

..why are you here, anansi?

[indiaval]

Hello, child. Before you so easily hand yourself over to The Fog of The Lonely, would you care to get lunch with me? As a.. final meal, so to speak, before it Takes you.

@child-of-the-web

..hm. perhaps.

but i am not very good with.. words. i tend to get overwhelmed easily. i do not know if it would be nice for you.

[child-of-the-web]

that is quite alright, my dear! i have no objection to existing merely in companionable silence, if you would prefer it.

[indiaval]

if.. you can come where i am. i think i could manage that. i do not do well in public spaces. you are one of the Mother’s children, no? you should have no problem finding me.

[child-of-the-web]

i can do that, indeed. would you like me to come now?

[indiaval]

it makes no difference to me when you come. so now is fine. speak quietly when you arrive, please.

[child-of-the-web]

[it took them a moment to grab something, before they stepped into the Web and emerged beside her. they were careful not to startle her as they stepped into her line of sight. they didn't speak a greeting -- simply nodded at her respectfully. they held a small erasable whiteboard and marker in their hand.]

[they held it up.]

Would you prefer I write?

[indiaval]

[they have arrived outside a small wooden cabin by the sea. the fog is thick, making the ocean waves barely visible, and the air is so cold it almost bites. india has emerged from the doorway, in an orange fur-lined parka. she looks down at the whiteboard, and then back up at them. her face barely changes, but they can see the faintest hint of relief in her eyes. she nods, and beckons them to come in.]

[child-of-the-web]

you have a nice house

[They write, smiling at her as they enter.]

[indiaval]

[she smiles back. it’s quite… old fashioned. they can see a wood stove, oil lamps, a kettle on the stove, and barely any electrical outlets. she stops in the kitchen, and gestures for them to sit in one of the wooden chairs while she tends to the food on the stove, occasionally glancing back at them.]

[child-of-the-web]

[They sat, pulling a book from their satchel and beginning to read. They really had meant that offer of companionable silence.]

[indiaval]

[after a while, she sets down lunch— a grilled cheese on what seemed to be homemade sourdough bread, and tomato soup. she waves her arm across it to indicate it’s still hot.]

[child-of-the-web]

That looks wonderful, dear child.

[They set the book down and served themselves and her.]

[indiaval]

[she walks out of the room for a moment, soon coming back with a notepad and a pen. she sits across from them, writing.]

thank you

[she pauses, and then continues]

thank you for coming

[child-of-the-web]

you're most welcome, child.

[They took a bite of the food.]

My dear, this is amazing!

[indiaval]

[she erases ‘for coming’, just leaving ‘thank you’. a pause, as they both eat. india seems to be biting the inside of her lip. eventually, she erases everything and starts over.]

sorry

[child-of-the-web]

what for, my dear?

[They arched and eyebrow quizzically.]

[indiaval]

i don’t have much to say

this likely isn’t a very enjoyable gathering for you

[child-of-the-web]

It's perfectly alright, my dear! I did offer companiable silence, did I not?

[They smiled at her.]

[indiaval]

i suppose.

if you’re sure you don’t mind.

[child-of-the-web]

[They looked around for a second, eyes catching on a picture. Two girls standing either side of a clumsily made snowman. He.. recognises both of them. One is India; that much is evident. The other...]

that is.. spirals, yes? Ophelia, I think their name is?

[indiaval]

[her eyes dart over to the picture. silently, she gets up, walks to it, and flips it so it’s face down on the shelf. she sits back down, staring at the table.]

[child-of-the-web]

...well. that's interesting.

[They don't make any further comment, simply eat their meal in silence.]

[indiaval]

[after a while, she seems to give in to some subconscious urge and takes the picture and places it on the table. she looks down at it with an almost unreadable expression before writing again.]

you can see the spiral, even when she was this young. it’s in her eyes.

[child-of-the-web]

Is that such a bad thing?

[Their body language gave nothing away about the sentiment behind the question.]

[indiaval]

i think it is. but if you are a part of it, i won’t judge you for it.

[child-of-the-web]

Oh, no, dear. I'm of The Web, through and through. I meant for her. She seemed like a nice enough girl when I met her, if a little forlorn.

[indiaval]

[india pauses for a long, long moment, before simply writing]

she means well

[child-of-the-web]

And yet...?

[indiaval]

[her pen is raised on the paper for a long moment, but to their surprise, she drops it, looks up, and speaks. her voice is hoarse and quiet, as if she barely uses it.]

… she— we cannot be conveyed through mere pen and paper.

[child-of-the-web]

[They raised an eyebrow, but didn't speak, waiting expectantly for her to elaborate.]

[indiaval]

… we grew up together. i used to think i knew her better than she knew herself. i now know that is wrong.

i believe she still feels that way about me, however.

[child-of-the-web]

[They put their pen to their board and stopped for a moment. Waited. And then wrote.]

you still care for her. I can tell.

[indiaval]

i never denied that.

you can speak, if you’d like. quietly.

[child-of-the-web]

you.. love her, then?

[Their voice was soft, quiet.]

[indiaval]

of course i do. to deny it would be ridiculous.

[child-of-the-web]

so why.. what is the issue, child?

[indiaval]

…

the sound of my own voice is piercing, anansi. the light of the sun is blinding. i need a quiet life. i need.. rest.

she is restless. she found a place in the city. she wants fame, recognition, her name in lights.

she wants me to be there with her.

do you.. see now?

[child-of-the-web]

[they nodded slowly.]

I see.

[A pause.]

moving on, my dear..

[indiaval]

alright.

..would you.. like to see.. something i painted?

[child-of-the-web]

[They switched back to writing, noting discomfort she wouldn't admit to.]

that would be lovely, dear.

[indiaval]

[she nods, standing and motioning for them to follow.

eventually, they reach a room that has a rather elaborate computer setup, an almost comically modern object in contrast to the old wood of the rest of the house. beside it, though, is a canvas. it’s a painting of the house itself, with a view of the sea. the colors are muted, blending together, but it’s beautiful. almost realistic and fantastical at the same time.]

it’s.. not quite finished. i’m not happy with the sky. it needs to be a bit darker.

[child-of-the-web]

[Their eyes widened in awe at the painting and in appreciation at the computer.]

That is.. a gorgeous painting.

[indiaval]

..thank you.

[child-of-the-web]

[They placed a hand gently on her shoulder. The touch was barely there, but still comforting.]

[indiaval]

[she initially stiffens at the touch, almost as if instinct, but after a moment, she relaxes. she doesn't quite lean into it, but she lets it happen as she gazes at the painting, clearly lost in thought.]

[child-of-the-web]

[They smiled at her but didn't say a word. They were planning.]

[indiaval]

[her eyes drift over to the computer as she realizes she hadn't explained that yet.]

i'm a programmer. little to no social interaction. code doesn't have feelings. it's nice.

i don't like technology, much, though. this is all i have. or want.

[child-of-the-web]

that's nice. I code and design personalised web advertisements.

[indiaval]

oh. i didn’t know we were in the same field.

…web advertisements. that’s funny.

[indiaval]

Hello, child. Before you so easily hand yourself over to The Fog of The Lonely, would you care to get lunch with me? As a.. final meal, so to speak, before it Takes you.

@child-of-the-web

..hm. perhaps.

but i am not very good with.. words. i tend to get overwhelmed easily. i do not know if it would be nice for you.

[child-of-the-web]

that is quite alright, my dear! i have no objection to existing merely in companionable silence, if you would prefer it.

[indiaval]

if.. you can come where i am. i think i could manage that. i do not do well in public spaces. you are one of the Mother’s children, no? you should have no problem finding me.

[child-of-the-web]

i can do that, indeed. would you like me to come now?

[indiaval]

it makes no difference to me when you come. so now is fine. speak quietly when you arrive, please.

[child-of-the-web]

[it took them a moment to grab something, before they stepped into the Web and emerged beside her. they were careful not to startle her as they stepped into her line of sight. they didn't speak a greeting -- simply nodded at her respectfully. they held a small erasable whiteboard and marker in their hand.]

[they held it up.]

Would you prefer I write?

[indiaval]

[they have arrived outside a small wooden cabin by the sea. the fog is thick, making the ocean waves barely visible, and the air is so cold it almost bites. india has emerged from the doorway, in an orange fur-lined parka. she looks down at the whiteboard, and then back up at them. her face barely changes, but they can see the faintest hint of relief in her eyes. she nods, and beckons them to come in.]

[child-of-the-web]

you have a nice house

[They write, smiling at her as they enter.]

[indiaval]

[she smiles back. it’s quite… old fashioned. they can see a wood stove, oil lamps, a kettle on the stove, and barely any electrical outlets. she stops in the kitchen, and gestures for them to sit in one of the wooden chairs while she tends to the food on the stove, occasionally glancing back at them.]

[child-of-the-web]

[They sat, pulling a book from their satchel and beginning to read. They really had meant that offer of companionable silence.]

[indiaval]

[after a while, she sets down lunch— a grilled cheese on what seemed to be homemade sourdough bread, and tomato soup. she waves her arm across it to indicate it’s still hot.]

[child-of-the-web]

That looks wonderful, dear child.

[They set the book down and served themselves and her.]

[indiaval]

[she walks out of the room for a moment, soon coming back with a notepad and a pen. she sits across from them, writing.]

thank you

[she pauses, and then continues]

thank you for coming

[child-of-the-web]

you're most welcome, child.

[They took a bite of the food.]

My dear, this is amazing!

[indiaval]

[she erases ‘for coming’, just leaving ‘thank you’. a pause, as they both eat. india seems to be biting the inside of her lip. eventually, she erases everything and starts over.]

sorry

[child-of-the-web]

what for, my dear?

[They arched and eyebrow quizzically.]

[indiaval]

i don’t have much to say

this likely isn’t a very enjoyable gathering for you

[child-of-the-web]

It's perfectly alright, my dear! I did offer companiable silence, did I not?

[They smiled at her.]

[indiaval]

i suppose.

if you’re sure you don’t mind.

[child-of-the-web]

[They looked around for a second, eyes catching on a picture. Two girls standing either side of a clumsily made snowman. He.. recognises both of them. One is India; that much is evident. The other...]

that is.. spirals, yes? Ophelia, I think their name is?

[indiaval]

[her eyes dart over to the picture. silently, she gets up, walks to it, and flips it so it’s face down on the shelf. she sits back down, staring at the table.]

[child-of-the-web]

...well. that's interesting.

[They don't make any further comment, simply eat their meal in silence.]

[indiaval]

[after a while, she seems to give in to some subconscious urge and takes the picture and places it on the table. she looks down at it with an almost unreadable expression before writing again.]

you can see the spiral, even when she was this young. it’s in her eyes.

[child-of-the-web]

Is that such a bad thing?

[Their body language gave nothing away about the sentiment behind the question.]

[indiaval]

i think it is. but if you are a part of it, i won’t judge you for it.

[child-of-the-web]

Oh, no, dear. I'm of The Web, through and through. I meant for her. She seemed like a nice enough girl when I met her, if a little forlorn.

[indiaval]

[india pauses for a long, long moment, before simply writing]

she means well

[child-of-the-web]

And yet...?

[indiaval]

[her pen is raised on the paper for a long moment, but to their surprise, she drops it, looks up, and speaks. her voice is hoarse and quiet, as if she barely uses it.]

… she— we cannot be conveyed through mere pen and paper.

[child-of-the-web]

[They raised an eyebrow, but didn't speak, waiting expectantly for her to elaborate.]

[indiaval]

… we grew up together. i used to think i knew her better than she knew herself. i now know that is wrong.

i believe she still feels that way about me, however.

[child-of-the-web]

[They put their pen to their board and stopped for a moment. Waited. And then wrote.]

you still care for her. I can tell.

[indiaval]

i never denied that.

you can speak, if you’d like. quietly.

[child-of-the-web]

you.. love her, then?

[Their voice was soft, quiet.]

[indiaval]

of course i do. to deny it would be ridiculous.

[child-of-the-web]

so why.. what is the issue, child?

[indiaval]

…

the sound of my own voice is piercing, anansi. the light of the sun is blinding. i need a quiet life. i need.. rest.

she is restless. she found a place in the city. she wants fame, recognition, her name in lights.

she wants me to be there with her.

do you.. see now?

[child-of-the-web]

[they nodded slowly.]

I see.

[A pause.]

moving on, my dear..

[indiaval]

alright.

..would you.. like to see.. something i painted?

[child-of-the-web]

[They switched back to writing, noting discomfort she wouldn't admit to.]

that would be lovely, dear.

[indiaval]

[she nods, standing and motioning for them to follow.

eventually, they reach a room that has a rather elaborate computer setup, an almost comically modern object in contrast to the old wood of the rest of the house. beside it, though, is a canvas. it’s a painting of the house itself, with a view of the sea. the colors are muted, blending together, but it’s beautiful. almost realistic and fantastical at the same time.]

it’s.. not quite finished. i’m not happy with the sky. it needs to be a bit darker.

[child-of-the-web]

[Their eyes widened in awe at the painting and in appreciation at the computer.]

That is.. a gorgeous painting.

[indiaval]

..thank you.

[child-of-the-web]

[They placed a hand gently on her shoulder. The touch was barely there, but still comforting.]

[indiaval]

[she initially stiffens at the touch, almost as if instinct, but after a moment, she relaxes. she doesn't quite lean into it, but she lets it happen as she gazes at the painting, clearly lost in thought.]

[child-of-the-web]

[They smiled at her but didn't say a word. They were planning.]

[indiaval]

[her eyes drift over to the computer as she realizes she hadn't explained that yet.]

i'm a programmer. little to no social interaction. code doesn't have feelings. it's nice.

i don't like technology, much, though. this is all i have. or want.

[indiaval]

[Ophelia balanced a bouquet of dull white and soft blue flowers with one arm as she knocked on the door. After a moment of no response, they walked around the back of the house and pushed open a fogged over window]

hElLo????? IndIA????? Are you in hereeeee?

@the-spiraling-artist

[there is still no response, but the still-running water of the sink implies that she was there a moment ago and simply moved rooms.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Determined, Ophelia crosses over to the next window. She wipes the sleeve of her sweater across the cloudy surface to peer inside.]

[indiaval]

[as she wipes off the fog, india’s face is revealed at the window. she looks… more pale than the last time they saw each other. almost more translucent, in a way. like she was close to fading into nothing entirely.

her eyes widen, and she gasps. the window fills with fog once more.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[ Ophelia squeals and falls back from the window in surprise, clutching her chest as the swirls of color she was trying so hard to dim for this visit return to her skin and hair with a flourish. After a few moments to breathe and smooth back down her twisting hair she pushes the window open and sticks her head and arms inside]

IiiiiiiiindIA?

[indiaval]

[eventually, after a very long moment, she emerges, plugging her ears. she says nothing, and can barely look at her, her attention focused on the space to the left of her instead.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia smiles as India comes into sight but it quickly fades into a grimace at the state of her old lover. She tries (and fails) to squeeze through the small window. ]

InDIa! OhhHHhhh it’s so good to see you! Are you sIcK? You don’t look too good. Have you been getting enough rEst? Eating enough??? Why are you plugging your eArs like that? Should I be quieter? Is sensitive hearing a symptom of a bug? That sounds just AWfull! Oops. Too loud. Hey honey can you give me a hand here? I think I’m stuck.

[indiaval]

[she winces at the initially loud volume, but the whispering seems to calm her a bit. she hesitates, and eventually opens the window fully. still not touching her, but at least giving her room to come in.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

thank youuuuuu

[she wiggles the rest of the way through the window and slumps unceremoniously to the floor]

ouch.

[Ophelia looks up at India and flashes her their best “winning smile”. In reality, the smile ends up far longer than your usual, socially-acceptable- and - logically- compatible-with-a human-face smile]

Heyyyyyyyyyyy

I brought… apology flowers?

[indiaval]

[india takes the flowers and places them near the sink, presumably to put in a vase later. she remains by the counter, watching ophelia carefully. she’s still silent.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[After a moment Ophelia awkwardly coughs and keeps talking to fill the silence]

Sooooooooooooooo

I got the cookies. And the note, thank you by the way, so I kinda took that as you telling me it was okay to reach out again and I really really miss you and I wanted to say sORry- sorry- for trying to drag you into all this spiral business with me and not listening when u told me to fuck off and oh shit I'm rambling again aren't I you always hated that uh-

I would like to try. To find compromises so we can make this work again. Or at least see each other every once in a while? I miss you a lOT- a lot.

[indiaval]

[she’s still silent for a moment, and ophelia begins to worry she won’t say anything at all, but just before she tries to talk again, india speaks. her voice is rough, almost unfamiliar, and barely above a whisper.]

..i didn’t send you anything. you sent me those.

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia pauses for a moment at the sound of her voice and the fact that she was FINALLY speaking before registering what it was she had actually said]

…

huh?

[indiaval]

…

i got.. your package. i did not send you anything.

[the-spiraling-artist]

hah uh no

I didn’t send you a package. I mean unless you count that painting from a few months ago but no cookies. You sent me cookies. And a cute little note to go with it.

[indiaval]

..no, i..

… i don’t think either of us sent anything.

[the-spiraling-artist]

then who the fuck did??? And why???

I haven’t talked to anyone for months, besides fOod- sorry- no one who knows about you and I seriously doubt you’ve had much of a social life either. No offense, of course, but you’ve always liked to be alone and I seriously doubt that’s improved since you disappeared.

the only I can think of is spectre but this kind of stunt seems entirely out of character for them…

[indiaval]

it .. doesn’t matter.

it must have been a mistake.

so there’s no point in.. this.

goodbye, ophelia.

[the-spiraling-artist]

whAT? NO!

[Ophelia momentarily loses their careful control over their form, bursting into an eyesore of colors and lights before settling back into her more human form and calming herself] gOd, I’m sorry, one moment please

…

I don’t think it matters what made me seek you out. I think it was a sign. Snow Angel, you look horrible. Well, I mean, you’re no less beautiful but you’re fading. How long have you been in isOlAtion?-sorry, isolation. I know the lonely has always had some grip on you but this? This is worrying.

Listen, we don’t have to talk. But can I stay a little longer? We can have tea and you can lend me a book you’ve liked recently so we can both read. Or we could go on a sea side walk! If you kept any of my old painting supplies we could paint the ocean like we used to. Or…. It is snowing. Do you… hehe… 🎶do u wanna build a snowmannnnn?🎶

[indiaval]

[india looks away as the flash of colors blinds her. eyes closed and ears plugged, she takes a deep breath and swallows.]

…i’m fine.

i don’t…

you and i both know you cannot be quiet for that long.

[the-spiraling-artist]

Let me try?

[They move their hand across their mouth in a zipping motion, turn the “key”, and then mime eating said key before looking up at India with a small smile]

[indiaval]

[she bites the inside of her lip, clearly having a rather intense internal battle. she’s silent, but it’s clear she’s thinking, rather than ignoring her.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia stays where she is and stays silent as she waits for a response]

[indiaval]

…….

one walk along the ocean.

no second chances.

no trying to “save me”.

it’s just a walk.

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia’s eyes light up in the less literal sense and they slowly make their way to the door, handing India the jacket hung up next to it as an old habit from when they’d taken this walk in the early mornings all those years back]

[indiaval]

[she looks at ophelia for a long moment before taking the jacket and putting it on, pulling the hood so tightly that only her eyes are visible before they walk out.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia slows her pace to match India’s so they can walk next to each other, fighting the instinct to hold her hand in order to give her space to breathe. They make their way down the pathway that leads to the shore, the sea itself dull in response to the gray sky looming over it.]

[indiaval]

[she's quiet as they walk, looking out towards the sea instead of at ophelia. eventually, they reach the shore, and india stops, her gaze still fixed on the crashing waves. she almost looks like she's longing for them to come closer.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[After they walk about half way across the span of easily accessible beach she crouches down to pick up a few flat round stones. She stands again, flashing India a smug look, and then confidently throws the rocks into the water in a sad attempt to skip them. She then proceeds to walk as if nothing happened, pride thoroughly wounded]

[indiaval]

[india used to laugh at those kinds of things, but she doesn't now, just walking beside her.]

... if there's something you want to talk about, don't wait for me to start the conversation.

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia stubbornly shakes her head, pressing her finger to lips to communicate that she intends to stay quiet just liked she promised. Ophelia was never one to give up when she set herself to a goal, even a goal as mundane as a silent walk.]

[indiaval]

hm.

…alright.

[they continue to walk.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[The rest of the walk is peaceful, Ophelia’s nervous energy melting away with the comforting sounds of the rise and fall of the tide and of the feet beside theirs. True to their word, they do manage to stay completely silent for the half hour or so it takes to cross the length of the beach and walk back to the house.]

[indiaval]

[india walks back into the house, not quite signifying whether or not she wants ophelia to follow her in.]

[indiaval]

Hello, child. Before you so easily hand yourself over to The Fog of The Lonely, would you care to get lunch with me? As a.. final meal, so to speak, before it Takes you.

@child-of-the-web

..hm. perhaps.

but i am not very good with.. words. i tend to get overwhelmed easily. i do not know if it would be nice for you.

[child-of-the-web]

that is quite alright, my dear! i have no objection to existing merely in companionable silence, if you would prefer it.

[indiaval]

if.. you can come where i am. i think i could manage that. i do not do well in public spaces. you are one of the Mother’s children, no? you should have no problem finding me.

[child-of-the-web]

i can do that, indeed. would you like me to come now?

[indiaval]

it makes no difference to me when you come. so now is fine. speak quietly when you arrive, please.

[child-of-the-web]

[it took them a moment to grab something, before they stepped into the Web and emerged beside her. they were careful not to startle her as they stepped into her line of sight. they didn't speak a greeting -- simply nodded at her respectfully. they held a small erasable whiteboard and marker in their hand.]

[they held it up.]

Would you prefer I write?

[indiaval]

[they have arrived outside a small wooden cabin by the sea. the fog is thick, making the ocean waves barely visible, and the air is so cold it almost bites. india has emerged from the doorway, in an orange fur-lined parka. she looks down at the whiteboard, and then back up at them. her face barely changes, but they can see the faintest hint of relief in her eyes. she nods, and beckons them to come in.]

[child-of-the-web]

you have a nice house

[They write, smiling at her as they enter.]

[indiaval]

[she smiles back. it’s quite… old fashioned. they can see a wood stove, oil lamps, a kettle on the stove, and barely any electrical outlets. she stops in the kitchen, and gestures for them to sit in one of the wooden chairs while she tends to the food on the stove, occasionally glancing back at them.]

[child-of-the-web]

[They sat, pulling a book from their satchel and beginning to read. They really had meant that offer of companionable silence.]

[indiaval]

[after a while, she sets down lunch— a grilled cheese on what seemed to be homemade sourdough bread, and tomato soup. she waves her arm across it to indicate it’s still hot.]

[child-of-the-web]

That looks wonderful, dear child.

[They set the book down and served themselves and her.]

[indiaval]

[she walks out of the room for a moment, soon coming back with a notepad and a pen. she sits across from them, writing.]

thank you

[she pauses, and then continues]

thank you for coming

[child-of-the-web]

you're most welcome, child.

[They took a bite of the food.]

My dear, this is amazing!

[indiaval]

[she erases ‘for coming’, just leaving ‘thank you’. a pause, as they both eat. india seems to be biting the inside of her lip. eventually, she erases everything and starts over.]

sorry

[child-of-the-web]

what for, my dear?

[They arched and eyebrow quizzically.]

[indiaval]

i don’t have much to say

this likely isn’t a very enjoyable gathering for you

[child-of-the-web]

It's perfectly alright, my dear! I did offer companiable silence, did I not?

[They smiled at her.]

[indiaval]

i suppose.

if you’re sure you don’t mind.

[child-of-the-web]

[They looked around for a second, eyes catching on a picture. Two girls standing either side of a clumsily made snowman. He.. recognises both of them. One is India; that much is evident. The other...]

that is.. spirals, yes? Ophelia, I think their name is?

[indiaval]

[her eyes dart over to the picture. silently, she gets up, walks to it, and flips it so it’s face down on the shelf. she sits back down, staring at the table.]

[child-of-the-web]

...well. that's interesting.

[They don't make any further comment, simply eat their meal in silence.]

[indiaval]

[after a while, she seems to give in to some subconscious urge and takes the picture and places it on the table. she looks down at it with an almost unreadable expression before writing again.]

you can see the spiral, even when she was this young. it’s in her eyes.

[child-of-the-web]

Is that such a bad thing?

[Their body language gave nothing away about the sentiment behind the question.]

[indiaval]

i think it is. but if you are a part of it, i won’t judge you for it.

[child-of-the-web]

Oh, no, dear. I'm of The Web, through and through. I meant for her. She seemed like a nice enough girl when I met her, if a little forlorn.

[indiaval]

[india pauses for a long, long moment, before simply writing]

she means well

[child-of-the-web]

And yet...?

[indiaval]

[her pen is raised on the paper for a long moment, but to their surprise, she drops it, looks up, and speaks. her voice is hoarse and quiet, as if she barely uses it.]

… she— we cannot be conveyed through mere pen and paper.

[child-of-the-web]

[They raised an eyebrow, but didn't speak, waiting expectantly for her to elaborate.]

[indiaval]

… we grew up together. i used to think i knew her better than she knew herself. i now know that is wrong.

i believe she still feels that way about me, however.

[child-of-the-web]

[They put their pen to their board and stopped for a moment. Waited. And then wrote.]

you still care for her. I can tell.

[indiaval]

i never denied that.

you can speak, if you’d like. quietly.

[child-of-the-web]

you.. love her, then?

[Their voice was soft, quiet.]

[indiaval]

of course i do. to deny it would be ridiculous.

[child-of-the-web]

so why.. what is the issue, child?

[indiaval]

…

the sound of my own voice is piercing, anansi. the light of the sun is blinding. i need a quiet life. i need.. rest.

she is restless. she found a place in the city. she wants fame, recognition, her name in lights.

she wants me to be there with her.

do you.. see now?

[child-of-the-web]

[they nodded slowly.]

I see.

[A pause.]

moving on, my dear..

[indiaval]

alright.

..would you.. like to see.. something i painted?

[child-of-the-web]

[They switched back to writing, noting discomfort she wouldn't admit to.]

that would be lovely, dear.

[indiaval]

[she nods, standing and motioning for them to follow.

eventually, they reach a room that has a rather elaborate computer setup, an almost comically modern object in contrast to the old wood of the rest of the house. beside it, though, is a canvas. it’s a painting of the house itself, with a view of the sea. the colors are muted, blending together, but it’s beautiful. almost realistic and fantastical at the same time.]

it’s.. not quite finished. i’m not happy with the sky. it needs to be a bit darker.

[child-of-the-web]

[Their eyes widened in awe at the painting and in appreciation at the computer.]

That is.. a gorgeous painting.

[indiaval]

..thank you.

[child-of-the-web]

[They placed a hand gently on her shoulder. The touch was barely there, but still comforting.]

[indiaval]

[she initially stiffens at the touch, almost as if instinct, but after a moment, she relaxes. she doesn't quite lean into it, but she lets it happen as she gazes at the painting, clearly lost in thought.]

[indiaval]

[Ophelia balanced a bouquet of dull white and soft blue flowers with one arm as she knocked on the door. After a moment of no response, they walked around the back of the house and pushed open a fogged over window]

hElLo????? IndIA????? Are you in hereeeee?

@the-spiraling-artist

[there is still no response, but the still-running water of the sink implies that she was there a moment ago and simply moved rooms.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Determined, Ophelia crosses over to the next window. She wipes the sleeve of her sweater across the cloudy surface to peer inside.]

[indiaval]

[as she wipes off the fog, india’s face is revealed at the window. she looks… more pale than the last time they saw each other. almost more translucent, in a way. like she was close to fading into nothing entirely.

her eyes widen, and she gasps. the window fills with fog once more.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[ Ophelia squeals and falls back from the window in surprise, clutching her chest as the swirls of color she was trying so hard to dim for this visit return to her skin and hair with a flourish. After a few moments to breathe and smooth back down her twisting hair she pushes the window open and sticks her head and arms inside]

IiiiiiiiindIA?

[indiaval]

[eventually, after a very long moment, she emerges, plugging her ears. she says nothing, and can barely look at her, her attention focused on the space to the left of her instead.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia smiles as India comes into sight but it quickly fades into a grimace at the state of her old lover. She tries (and fails) to squeeze through the small window. ]

InDIa! OhhHHhhh it’s so good to see you! Are you sIcK? You don’t look too good. Have you been getting enough rEst? Eating enough??? Why are you plugging your eArs like that? Should I be quieter? Is sensitive hearing a symptom of a bug? That sounds just AWfull! Oops. Too loud. Hey honey can you give me a hand here? I think I’m stuck.

[indiaval]

[she winces at the initially loud volume, but the whispering seems to calm her a bit. she hesitates, and eventually opens the window fully. still not touching her, but at least giving her room to come in.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

thank youuuuuu

[she wiggles the rest of the way through the window and slumps unceremoniously to the floor]

ouch.

[Ophelia looks up at India and flashes her their best “winning smile”. In reality, the smile ends up far longer than your usual, socially-acceptable- and - logically- compatible-with-a human-face smile]

Heyyyyyyyyyyy

I brought… apology flowers?

[indiaval]

[india takes the flowers and places them near the sink, presumably to put in a vase later. she remains by the counter, watching ophelia carefully. she’s still silent.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[After a moment Ophelia awkwardly coughs and keeps talking to fill the silence]

Sooooooooooooooo

I got the cookies. And the note, thank you by the way, so I kinda took that as you telling me it was okay to reach out again and I really really miss you and I wanted to say sORry- sorry- for trying to drag you into all this spiral business with me and not listening when u told me to fuck off and oh shit I'm rambling again aren't I you always hated that uh-

I would like to try. To find compromises so we can make this work again. Or at least see each other every once in a while? I miss you a lOT- a lot.

[indiaval]

[she’s still silent for a moment, and ophelia begins to worry she won’t say anything at all, but just before she tries to talk again, india speaks. her voice is rough, almost unfamiliar, and barely above a whisper.]

..i didn’t send you anything. you sent me those.

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia pauses for a moment at the sound of her voice and the fact that she was FINALLY speaking before registering what it was she had actually said]

…

huh?

[indiaval]

…

i got.. your package. i did not send you anything.

[the-spiraling-artist]

hah uh no

I didn’t send you a package. I mean unless you count that painting from a few months ago but no cookies. You sent me cookies. And a cute little note to go with it.

[indiaval]

..no, i..

… i don’t think either of us sent anything.

[the-spiraling-artist]

then who the fuck did??? And why???

I haven’t talked to anyone for months, besides fOod- sorry- no one who knows about you and I seriously doubt you’ve had much of a social life either. No offense, of course, but you’ve always liked to be alone and I seriously doubt that’s improved since you disappeared.

the only I can think of is spectre but this kind of stunt seems entirely out of character for them…

[indiaval]

it .. doesn’t matter.

it must have been a mistake.

so there’s no point in.. this.

goodbye, ophelia.

[the-spiraling-artist]

whAT? NO!

[Ophelia momentarily loses their careful control over their form, bursting into an eyesore of colors and lights before settling back into her more human form and calming herself] gOd, I’m sorry, one moment please

…

I don’t think it matters what made me seek you out. I think it was a sign. Snow Angel, you look horrible. Well, I mean, you’re no less beautiful but you’re fading. How long have you been in isOlAtion?-sorry, isolation. I know the lonely has always had some grip on you but this? This is worrying.

Listen, we don’t have to talk. But can I stay a little longer? We can have tea and you can lend me a book you’ve liked recently so we can both read. Or we could go on a sea side walk! If you kept any of my old painting supplies we could paint the ocean like we used to. Or…. It is snowing. Do you… hehe… 🎶do u wanna build a snowmannnnn?🎶

[indiaval]

[india looks away as the flash of colors blinds her. eyes closed and ears plugged, she takes a deep breath and swallows.]

…i’m fine.

i don’t…

you and i both know you cannot be quiet for that long.

[the-spiraling-artist]

Let me try?

[They move their hand across their mouth in a zipping motion, turn the “key”, and then mime eating said key before looking up at India with a small smile]

[indiaval]

[she bites the inside of her lip, clearly having a rather intense internal battle. she’s silent, but it’s clear she’s thinking, rather than ignoring her.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia stays where she is and stays silent as she waits for a response]

[indiaval]

…….

one walk along the ocean.

no second chances.

no trying to “save me”.

it’s just a walk.

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia’s eyes light up in the less literal sense and they slowly make their way to the door, handing India the jacket hung up next to it as an old habit from when they’d taken this walk in the early mornings all those years back]

[indiaval]

[she looks at ophelia for a long moment before taking the jacket and putting it on, pulling the hood so tightly that only her eyes are visible before they walk out.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia slows her pace to match India’s so they can walk next to each other, fighting the instinct to hold her hand in order to give her space to breathe. They make their way down the pathway that leads to the shore, the sea itself dull in response to the gray sky looming over it.]

[indiaval]

[she's quiet as they walk, looking out towards the sea instead of at ophelia. eventually, they reach the shore, and india stops, her gaze still fixed on the crashing waves. she almost looks like she's longing for them to come closer.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[After they walk about half way across the span of easily accessible beach she crouches down to pick up a few flat round stones. She stands again, flashing India a smug look, and then confidently throws the rocks into the water in a sad attempt to skip them. She then proceeds to walk as if nothing happened, pride thoroughly wounded]

[indiaval]

[india used to laugh at those kinds of things, but she doesn't now, just walking beside her.]

... if there's something you want to talk about, don't wait for me to start the conversation.

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia stubbornly shakes her head, pressing her finger to lips to communicate that she intends to stay quiet just liked she promised. Ophelia was never one to give up when she set herself to a goal, even a goal as mundane as a silent walk.]

[indiaval]

hm.

…alright.

[they continue to walk.]

[indiaval]

[Ophelia balanced a bouquet of dull white and soft blue flowers with one arm as she knocked on the door. After a moment of no response, they walked around the back of the house and pushed open a fogged over window]

hElLo????? IndIA????? Are you in hereeeee?

@the-spiraling-artist

[there is still no response, but the still-running water of the sink implies that she was there a moment ago and simply moved rooms.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Determined, Ophelia crosses over to the next window. She wipes the sleeve of her sweater across the cloudy surface to peer inside.]

[indiaval]

[as she wipes off the fog, india’s face is revealed at the window. she looks… more pale than the last time they saw each other. almost more translucent, in a way. like she was close to fading into nothing entirely.

her eyes widen, and she gasps. the window fills with fog once more.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[ Ophelia squeals and falls back from the window in surprise, clutching her chest as the swirls of color she was trying so hard to dim for this visit return to her skin and hair with a flourish. After a few moments to breathe and smooth back down her twisting hair she pushes the window open and sticks her head and arms inside]

IiiiiiiiindIA?

[indiaval]

[eventually, after a very long moment, she emerges, plugging her ears. she says nothing, and can barely look at her, her attention focused on the space to the left of her instead.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia smiles as India comes into sight but it quickly fades into a grimace at the state of her old lover. She tries (and fails) to squeeze through the small window. ]

InDIa! OhhHHhhh it’s so good to see you! Are you sIcK? You don’t look too good. Have you been getting enough rEst? Eating enough??? Why are you plugging your eArs like that? Should I be quieter? Is sensitive hearing a symptom of a bug? That sounds just AWfull! Oops. Too loud. Hey honey can you give me a hand here? I think I’m stuck.

[indiaval]

[she winces at the initially loud volume, but the whispering seems to calm her a bit. she hesitates, and eventually opens the window fully. still not touching her, but at least giving her room to come in.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

thank youuuuuu

[she wiggles the rest of the way through the window and slumps unceremoniously to the floor]

ouch.

[Ophelia looks up at India and flashes her their best “winning smile”. In reality, the smile ends up far longer than your usual, socially-acceptable- and - logically- compatible-with-a human-face smile]

Heyyyyyyyyyyy

I brought… apology flowers?

[indiaval]

[india takes the flowers and places them near the sink, presumably to put in a vase later. she remains by the counter, watching ophelia carefully. she’s still silent.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[After a moment Ophelia awkwardly coughs and keeps talking to fill the silence]

Sooooooooooooooo

I got the cookies. And the note, thank you by the way, so I kinda took that as you telling me it was okay to reach out again and I really really miss you and I wanted to say sORry- sorry- for trying to drag you into all this spiral business with me and not listening when u told me to fuck off and oh shit I'm rambling again aren't I you always hated that uh-

I would like to try. To find compromises so we can make this work again. Or at least see each other every once in a while? I miss you a lOT- a lot.

[indiaval]

[she’s still silent for a moment, and ophelia begins to worry she won’t say anything at all, but just before she tries to talk again, india speaks. her voice is rough, almost unfamiliar, and barely above a whisper.]

..i didn’t send you anything. you sent me those.

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia pauses for a moment at the sound of her voice and the fact that she was FINALLY speaking before registering what it was she had actually said]

…

huh?

[indiaval]

…

i got.. your package. i did not send you anything.

[the-spiraling-artist]

hah uh no

I didn’t send you a package. I mean unless you count that painting from a few months ago but no cookies. You sent me cookies. And a cute little note to go with it.

[indiaval]

..no, i..

… i don’t think either of us sent anything.

[the-spiraling-artist]

then who the fuck did??? And why???

I haven’t talked to anyone for months, besides fOod- sorry- no one who knows about you and I seriously doubt you’ve had much of a social life either. No offense, of course, but you’ve always liked to be alone and I seriously doubt that’s improved since you disappeared.

the only I can think of is spectre but this kind of stunt seems entirely out of character for them…

[indiaval]

it .. doesn’t matter.

it must have been a mistake.

so there’s no point in.. this.

goodbye, ophelia.

[the-spiraling-artist]

whAT? NO!

[Ophelia momentarily loses their careful control over their form, bursting into an eyesore of colors and lights before settling back into her more human form and calming herself] gOd, I’m sorry, one moment please

…

I don’t think it matters what made me seek you out. I think it was a sign. Snow Angel, you look horrible. Well, I mean, you’re no less beautiful but you’re fading. How long have you been in isOlAtion?-sorry, isolation. I know the lonely has always had some grip on you but this? This is worrying.

Listen, we don’t have to talk. But can I stay a little longer? We can have tea and you can lend me a book you’ve liked recently so we can both read. Or we could go on a sea side walk! If you kept any of my old painting supplies we could paint the ocean like we used to. Or…. It is snowing. Do you… hehe… 🎶do u wanna build a snowmannnnn?🎶

[indiaval]

[india looks away as the flash of colors blinds her. eyes closed and ears plugged, she takes a deep breath and swallows.]

…i’m fine.

i don’t…

you and i both know you cannot be quiet for that long.

[the-spiraling-artist]

Let me try?

[They move their hand across their mouth in a zipping motion, turn the “key”, and then mime eating said key before looking up at India with a small smile]

[indiaval]

[she bites the inside of her lip, clearly having a rather intense internal battle. she’s silent, but it’s clear she’s thinking, rather than ignoring her.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia stays where she is and stays silent as she waits for a response]

[indiaval]

…….

one walk along the ocean.

no second chances.

no trying to “save me”.

it’s just a walk.

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia’s eyes light up in the less literal sense and they slowly make their way to the door, handing India the jacket hung up next to it as an old habit from when they’d taken this walk in the early mornings all those years back]

[indiaval]

[she looks at ophelia for a long moment before taking the jacket and putting it on, pulling the hood so tightly that only her eyes are visible before they walk out.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia slows her pace to match India’s so they can walk next to each other, fighting the instinct to hold her hand in order to give her space to breathe. They make their way down the pathway that leads to the shore, the sea itself dull in response to the gray sky looming over it.]

[indiaval]

[she's quiet as they walk, looking out towards the sea instead of at ophelia. eventually, they reach the shore, and india stops, her gaze still fixed on the crashing waves. she almost looks like she's longing for them to come closer.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[After they walk about half way across the span of easily accessible beach she crouches down to pick up a few flat round stones. She stands again, flashing India a smug look, and then confidently throws the rocks into the water in a sad attempt to skip them. She then proceeds to walk as if nothing happened, pride thoroughly wounded]

[indiaval]

[india used to laugh at those kinds of things, but she doesn't now, just walking beside her.]

... if there's something you want to talk about, don't wait for me to start the conversation.

[indiaval]

[Ophelia balanced a bouquet of dull white and soft blue flowers with one arm as she knocked on the door. After a moment of no response, they walked around the back of the house and pushed open a fogged over window]

hElLo????? IndIA????? Are you in hereeeee?

@the-spiraling-artist

[there is still no response, but the still-running water of the sink implies that she was there a moment ago and simply moved rooms.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Determined, Ophelia crosses over to the next window. She wipes the sleeve of her sweater across the cloudy surface to peer inside.]

[indiaval]

[as she wipes off the fog, india’s face is revealed at the window. she looks… more pale than the last time they saw each other. almost more translucent, in a way. like she was close to fading into nothing entirely.

her eyes widen, and she gasps. the window fills with fog once more.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[ Ophelia squeals and falls back from the window in surprise, clutching her chest as the swirls of color she was trying so hard to dim for this visit return to her skin and hair with a flourish. After a few moments to breathe and smooth back down her twisting hair she pushes the window open and sticks her head and arms inside]

IiiiiiiiindIA?

[indiaval]

[eventually, after a very long moment, she emerges, plugging her ears. she says nothing, and can barely look at her, her attention focused on the space to the left of her instead.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia smiles as India comes into sight but it quickly fades into a grimace at the state of her old lover. She tries (and fails) to squeeze through the small window. ]

InDIa! OhhHHhhh it’s so good to see you! Are you sIcK? You don’t look too good. Have you been getting enough rEst? Eating enough??? Why are you plugging your eArs like that? Should I be quieter? Is sensitive hearing a symptom of a bug? That sounds just AWfull! Oops. Too loud. Hey honey can you give me a hand here? I think I’m stuck.

[indiaval]

[she winces at the initially loud volume, but the whispering seems to calm her a bit. she hesitates, and eventually opens the window fully. still not touching her, but at least giving her room to come in.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

thank youuuuuu

[she wiggles the rest of the way through the window and slumps unceremoniously to the floor]

ouch.

[Ophelia looks up at India and flashes her their best “winning smile”. In reality, the smile ends up far longer than your usual, socially-acceptable- and - logically- compatible-with-a human-face smile]

Heyyyyyyyyyyy

I brought… apology flowers?

[indiaval]

[india takes the flowers and places them near the sink, presumably to put in a vase later. she remains by the counter, watching ophelia carefully. she’s still silent.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[After a moment Ophelia awkwardly coughs and keeps talking to fill the silence]

Sooooooooooooooo

I got the cookies. And the note, thank you by the way, so I kinda took that as you telling me it was okay to reach out again and I really really miss you and I wanted to say sORry- sorry- for trying to drag you into all this spiral business with me and not listening when u told me to fuck off and oh shit I'm rambling again aren't I you always hated that uh-

I would like to try. To find compromises so we can make this work again. Or at least see each other every once in a while? I miss you a lOT- a lot.

[indiaval]

[she’s still silent for a moment, and ophelia begins to worry she won’t say anything at all, but just before she tries to talk again, india speaks. her voice is rough, almost unfamiliar, and barely above a whisper.]

..i didn’t send you anything. you sent me those.

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia pauses for a moment at the sound of her voice and the fact that she was FINALLY speaking before registering what it was she had actually said]

…

huh?

[indiaval]

…

i got.. your package. i did not send you anything.

[the-spiraling-artist]

hah uh no

I didn’t send you a package. I mean unless you count that painting from a few months ago but no cookies. You sent me cookies. And a cute little note to go with it.

[indiaval]

..no, i..

… i don’t think either of us sent anything.

[the-spiraling-artist]

then who the fuck did??? And why???

I haven’t talked to anyone for months, besides fOod- sorry- no one who knows about you and I seriously doubt you’ve had much of a social life either. No offense, of course, but you’ve always liked to be alone and I seriously doubt that’s improved since you disappeared.

the only I can think of is spectre but this kind of stunt seems entirely out of character for them…

[indiaval]

it .. doesn’t matter.

it must have been a mistake.

so there’s no point in.. this.

goodbye, ophelia.

[the-spiraling-artist]

whAT? NO!

[Ophelia momentarily loses their careful control over their form, bursting into an eyesore of colors and lights before settling back into her more human form and calming herself] gOd, I’m sorry, one moment please

…

I don’t think it matters what made me seek you out. I think it was a sign. Snow Angel, you look horrible. Well, I mean, you’re no less beautiful but you’re fading. How long have you been in isOlAtion?-sorry, isolation. I know the lonely has always had some grip on you but this? This is worrying.

Listen, we don’t have to talk. But can I stay a little longer? We can have tea and you can lend me a book you’ve liked recently so we can both read. Or we could go on a sea side walk! If you kept any of my old painting supplies we could paint the ocean like we used to. Or…. It is snowing. Do you… hehe… 🎶do u wanna build a snowmannnnn?🎶

[indiaval]

[india looks away as the flash of colors blinds her. eyes closed and ears plugged, she takes a deep breath and swallows.]

…i’m fine.

i don’t…

you and i both know you cannot be quiet for that long.

[the-spiraling-artist]

Let me try?

[They move their hand across their mouth in a zipping motion, turn the “key”, and then mime eating said key before looking up at India with a small smile]

[indiaval]

[she bites the inside of her lip, clearly having a rather intense internal battle. she’s silent, but it’s clear she’s thinking, rather than ignoring her.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia stays where she is and stays silent as she waits for a response]

[indiaval]

…….

one walk along the ocean.

no second chances.

no trying to “save me”.

it’s just a walk.

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia’s eyes light up in the less literal sense and they slowly make their way to the door, handing India the jacket hung up next to it as an old habit from when they’d taken this walk in the early mornings all those years back]

[indiaval]

[she looks at ophelia for a long moment before taking the jacket and putting it on, pulling the hood so tightly that only her eyes are visible before they walk out.]

[the-spiraling-artist]

[Ophelia slows her pace to match India’s so they can walk next to each other, fighting the instinct to hold her hand in order to give her space to breathe. They make their way down the pathway that leads to the shore, the sea itself dull in response to the gray sky looming over it.]

[indiaval]

[she's quiet as they walk, looking out towards the sea instead of at ophelia. eventually, they reach the shore, and india stops, her gaze still fixed on the crashing waves. she almost looks like she's longing for them to come closer.]