faith / LEAPER

@woodstangled

something inside me had dropped away and nothing came in to fill the cavern. scorned by gray.

230 posts

( LAITH ASHLEY, TRANS MAN, HE/HIM ) — Look what the werecat’s dragged in! If you take a look at our records, you’ll find that DANIEL SANTOS is a TWENTY-FIVE year old CASHIER that’s been in Cromerth Woods for A SHORT WHILE. According to this file, they’re a FAUN hailing all the way from AETHYRIA. That must be why they’re FRIENDLY and DISTANT. If you ask me, they remind me of wind whipping in your face, the peace in the eye of the storm, prayer beads rubbed raw from empty prayers. They are allied with THE REFUGEES.

It's not exactly nice, but Will refrains from pointing it out. Danny probably already knows—and there really wasn't enough for the refugees to live in either. As he talks, the sheepish tone and nerves make his heart melt for a moment, and impulse starts with his body instead of his mind. Hugs usually help in his mind, and he simply goes for it once more. While he's no gargantuan man, he's been told that his hugs feel solid, and that is exactly what he would like to impart onto him. That feeling of stable ground as the world moves, the feeling of someone at least trying to look out for him.

"You're welcome, Danny. And hey—just look for me near the big tree here. Just a couple of blocks that a way." Pointing to the far right, he smiles, and puts a hand on his arm. "Don't be a stranger, yeah? Can't wait to see your face again!"

danny expects to hear the usual comments—many of which start with the same look that's shown in his face, and then an ...oh, really? this is it? unfortunately, yes—this is it. this is home. at least until he can find somewhere better within his current means. but will says nothing, asks nothing, betrays nothing—he just goes in for another hug. it's comforting. it's not the same kind of patronizing concern that he's expecting. does that say something about him? danny doesn't think on it long, instead letting himself melt into the warm, strong arms offered to him. even if he really, really shouldn't. "yeah, i'll—" the hug breaks and not for the first time, he finds himself struggling for words. gods. is he under some kind of spell or something? but the answer is probably not—he's never been quite as put together as he likes to think. especially not when he's... well, never mind all that. "i'll make sure to stop by. it'd be nice having a neighbor that i don't think will kill me."

offering a lighthearted nudge , she tries shifting their conversation to less depressing matters. " i know , don't worry. things tend to fall into place for me eventually and hopefully this'll be no different. " for as much as she adored danny , she couldn't help but to hate his perceptiveness at the moment. the question of her magic being uncooperative isn't an easy one to answer either. considering analyn's not quite sure herself. " hmm. i'm not sure , to be honest. it's never been quite this .... dysfunctional before. sometimes i think it's got a mind of it's own , you know. sort of like it doesn't want to be used for such .... violence ? kinda rad when you think about it ━━ albeit a bit spooky. "

danny is at a bit of a loss—he doesn't know what he should say to her. clearly, she's looking for some kind of advice, something that could right the wrongs in her plans, but... he doesn't have them. is revenge wrong? he doesn't think so. but disobeying some kind of natural presence in order to make it happen? that's where it starts to get tricky. "if you think your magic isn't cooperating because of it—i wouldn't do it," he says at last, shaking his head. "gods don't tend to enjoy that kind of thing. at least... mine didn't." he frowns a little more deeply, haggardly, than he means to. "maybe it's trying to tell you something."

"Danny..." Imogen sighs gently, hand gently rubbing up and down his arm. "Forget about whether it might be trouble for me -- which it wouldn't, incidentally -- would it be helpful? You can't just keep waiting for the next terrible thing to happen, that's no way to live." Her words are as soft as ever, but she is stern with it. Imogen refuses to watch such a good friend lose himself to these dark feelings.

she's right. she's absolutely, positively, one-hundred-percent right. still, that idea doesn't make him feel any better—what does it matter when that way of life seems so far out of reach? he doesn't remember a time where he hasn't been waiting for another shoe to drop. back at home, here in this evil-twisted world... it all just feels like a long game of cat and mouse. it's not fun to be the mouse. for a long moment, danny says nothing. then, "it... would be helpful." this is as good a start as any, right? accepting help? "thank you."

Well, it's not exactly the font of information he'd been hoping for, but what can you do. Jules was asking Danny to dredge up memories of a dead friend, after all: 'he was great' is probably the most he should expect. Paying for their coffees and leading them over to a bench where Jules flops down into a sprawling seat (he's never been good at standing for long periods of time), he says:

"You're very apologetic, you know." Just in case Danny was not aware of this part of his personality. "Shouldn't I be the sorry one, the one bringing things back for you? You lost... everything. Not that it's a competition but I'd say that trumps my mommy/daddy issues."

there's not a whole lot to say to that observation—you're very apologetic, you know—that doesn't also include an apology, so danny goes for what feels like a risky shrug. which is almost followed, reflexively, by another apology. if not for all the apologizing, then for not stepping in and paying for the coffee. with what money? most of it had been stolen from him, by now. pay day isn't up yet. somehow, he manages not to combust from the stress of it all and sits himself down in a chair instead, staring very intently at the contents of his cup. "well—i don't know about that," he starts, sucking in a breath. "you didn't choose to—you shouldn't apologize just for how you look. i mean, you're from—you, um—" now that he's started that line of thought, he starts to regret it. against his better judgement, although much quieter, he finishes; "you... kind of lost everything, too."

#c ;; jules #UHDGDHUDHFGDFG

"Let's not jinx it—who knows what kind of luck the gods of this world would give us, eh?" His arm pulls Danny closer as they wind their way through the streets. It looks odd, and the place says that they're near, and he simply looks at Danny with a questioning look on his face, since he'd probably know if they were woefully off-course, or just a little off the mark. "So, I—wait, is this your home? Do we have to jump fences? I don't want you putting yourself through anything you don't need to!"

"oh, you're right," he says, laughing a little more nervously than he wants to. it's actually a solid point, too. a fae would have loved to get him like that back home. who's to say something... darker... wouldn't relish in the chance of something worse? given the thought, he doesn't mind when will pulls him a little closer. "don't want to jinx it." thankfully, nothing seems to be out wanting to help them lose their way today—turns out his new neighbor knows where he's going after all. "it's... yeah, this is me," he offers, this time willful in his sheepishness. it's really not much, is it? a slice a crooked wall. "um," he starts, glancing at the rickety door and back at will again. home sweet home, right? "thanks. again. for helping me out."

#c ;; will #DJGDHHGFD EXACTLY

I'd love to come over some time. He knew his old village, from the oldest person to the youngest babe, and so living like this. Unmoored except for a couple of people that know his name—and now, one more that would help him set down roots in this world. "Yeah!" He doesn't hide his excitement and happiness, grinning from ear to ear as Will hugs him, quick and tight as they continue onward. "I'll be expecting you, now. Hope we don't get the same bright idea and end up waiting on each other's front steps like dummies!" A laugh bubbles up from his chest as he imagines it, Will with hot pastries and Danny just standing there. "Could you imagine?"

danny makes an undeniable squeak as will pulls him in for an unexpected hug—not unwelcome, but also not particularly helpful to the flush that's steadily been spreading across his body. he even feels it under all his fur. does it make him feel better or worse that will seems completely oblivious to it? better, he thinks. at least that way he isn't embarrassing himself. "i think as long as we don't miss each other on the way over... we'll be okay. one of us will open the door and see the other eventually, right?"

#c ;; will #exactly... <3 #we love to see the range!

"I live with my kid—and sometimes I have friends over. I think you'd like them. One's rough around the edges, the other only comes out at night." Will sighs fondly, thinking about the both of them. His two trusted companions, his dearest friends. Ah, pieces of his heart scattered through Cromerth Woods. He bumps into Danny, grinning at his newfound friend, though it all but felt presumptuous for him to just call the satyr that right when they'd met. "But if you want to just come over, just give me a knock and holler." Will smiles at him. "I'd love to see you in my house. Use those legs of your anywhere you need!"

"oh you have—" that shouldn't be as surprising as it is, but... somehow, it still comes as a surprise. maybe it's just that most parents didn't seem to make it out. it's nice that someone did. someone young. but horrid, too... that anyone would have to live through their childhood in such a wretched state. "that's nice. i mean—i've always liked kids." part-goat or otherwise. it's never mattered to him. "but i'd love to—" gods it's difficult to speak like this, as flustered as he is; "—i'd love to come over some time."

#c ;; will #so real of him

"Thanks. Sometimes I think my mouth is the best part of me, then I manage to stick my foot in it and then realize that it's probably not." He laughs at that, a little awkwardly as he feels a bit of a blush coming on. Maybe he's just being humored by Danny—maybe he's done way too many things that he's just too polite to be called out on. And as they come to a fork in the road that probably looks like the fork in the road on the map, Will simply trudges along, trying to keep the conversation going. "So, do you just live alone? I know you said you have a place—any Aethyrians come and shack up with you?"

it's incredible how easy it is for will to pull him right back into his own embarrassment... seemingly effortlessly! or willfully, even. he at least seems aware that he's been known to say some... easily misconstrued things. "i've never been very... social, either," he says, partly to deflect ( he doesn't mean it like that! ) and partly because it's true. he's not. that's part of the reason he's struggling here. "but—yeah, mostly. sometimes it's just nice to have your own space, you know?" but he's just saying that, really. he's never been alone like this before. not since... the old grove was destroyed. "do you? live alone, i mean."

Danny leans against her, and Imogen immediately wraps an arm around him, warm and soft. Boots, on her other arm, is deposited carefully onto the bedside table so Danny can get her whole focus. "I get it. I don't like to fight, either. Will you be able to prevent it from happening again? Maybe I could pick you up after work to make sure you get home safe, at least on pay days?" If he doesn't want to go into the details of why he had to ditch the check, that's okay; Imogen hopes he'll tell her if he wants to, though. And if he doesn't want to talk about, the least she can do is help figure out how to prevent a recurrence.

"i don't know," he admits, sighing. it feels like a longshot that he even try. everything in this world is so... malicious that being out alone at all feels like painting a target on his back. to say nothing of looking different from most other people in this world. "i don't think i can prevent anything. there's just... too much out there that..." he trails off, grimacing. too much darkness, too much evil. it's not just him—it could happen to anyone. maybe he just got unlucky, too. wrong place, wrong time. it happens. he can take other routes. get mugged on them, too. "i don't want to make any extra trouble for you..."

Danny going from pink to red is a little strange, but perhaps he was just tired from all the walking—Will understands, it's almost as if they'd been walking for ages with no direction and gods know that even a wandering plant needs water to grow. Taking a moment, he stops and looks at the directions Danny's been given, getting closer so the both of them can look. The directions are horrible but they're honestly no better than what he could come up with, so he shouldn't say anything too horrible about them.

"You'd love the place. I squeeze in through the front—gods willing I fit, right? But the house is perfect otherwise, though it really wasn't made for a person my size." Will laughs, shaking his head. "I'm a large man, apparently. Must be my nymph ancestor working for me! Maybe she was a spirit of a large woodland tree!" Will pats his furry side without thinking and grins. "But hey, as far as I know, we're almost there, Danny. You'll listen to me yap just a little bit more then you're home free."

"i hope the inside is a little roomier. i'm not much smaller than you are." he's never really considered himself a large man, though. not really. he's about average for a faun... in most places. not where it counts. doesn't really matter anymore, does it? whatever the case, he tries not to think on it—he doesn't want to soil whatever good experience he's finally managing to have. even if it is a little... erm, awkward in places. places that he hasn't even seemed to notice! is that strange? "but—hey," he pauses, biting back a noise of surprise as will's hand smacks against his furry behind. "you're, um, you're not bad company. i don't mind listening to you talk."

"It wouldn't be dumb, but I'd pout like a kicked puppy." And he certainly would! Shiny eyes and everything. The streets turn winding and treacherous, and he finds himself always putting a hand on Danny, just in case they get separated. "You don't mind, do you? My hands?" He suddenly feels embarrassed, putting his hands on a stranger he barely even met—he should have asked, but now it's too late to do anything about it. "Sorry. Old habits. But—well, I'd love to have you come. To the house or honestly, even one of those shops that they let us in some days. Come anywhere, really," he replies, excited in thinking about the new friend he's certain to have made. "I'd have you anywhere!"

"that's my weakness," he admits, cracking another smile. "someone throws the puppy eyes at me and i'm all theirs." it's true. he's very susceptible to other people's emotions that way. not among the best traits to have during wartime. or in a world like this, for that matter. everything just feels wrong. except— "no!" oops, too eager. "i mean, i don't mind. really." it's the best walk back home he's ever had, so far... as sad as that might be—he's forgotten how nice it is just to have someone care about whether he gets home or not. someone who he doesn't know, that is. everyone here seems much less concerned about one another... danny chokes on air for a moment, ears going from pink to red. to the house. he had said to the house. that's it. to the house. it has nothing to do with anything else, just... wording. that's all. but telling himself that doesn't make him feel any less flustered in his presence. i'd have you anywhere! gods, what is he supposed to say to that? especially when now the thought is in his mind and fuck, it's not leaving. anywhere? no, not like that! stop it! it feels like beating his mind back with a stick. "that would be really nice of you," he says instead, even if he does sound a little choked up about it. "i'd love to come over sometime."

#c ;; will #im obsessed with him

Ah. He understands—the people here weren't quick to offer their homes or their hearths for anyone from the other side, and whatever accommodations that they could round up was simply a blessing from the gods. Thankfully, a teacher had shown him a place, and while it wasn't spacious, it was enough for him and Gabby. "Well, maybe if we're close by, I can drop in. Make the best of a bad situation, with some food and a couple of knick-knacks I've gotten over the last couple of days," he says, bumping into Danny playfully. "Maybe give me a reason to make more food these days."

is this really all it takes? half of an idea that someone might have been flirting, maybe, and the offer to take a load off—err, some weight off his shoulders and he's giggling and twirling his hair like a lovesick dryad? yeah, maybe. but outwardly that's embarrassing, so he tries to keep from looking too endeared with the idea of just... sitting down and eating with someone else. "you don't have to do that. i wouldn't want to take any food off your table... but if you've got the extra, i mean..." can he just get his words straight? is that really so hard? "i would be dumb to say no, wouldn't i?"

"Listen, if I had legs like yours, I would too! I keep trying to talk to plants, but they don't exactly talk back here." It feels like he's done so much wrong in this world, the way unkindness is seeped into every pore of this new home that he's trying to build, but he was bound to get something right. He laughs at the thought of Danny scaling walls to get to where he is, and shakes his head. "I—well, we're all refugees here, right? Who's going to help us if not... well, one of us?" Squeezing his shoulder, he leads them left and grimaces. "Wait—what is this place you're trying to go to?"

a bright red flush creeps up along the back of his neck and to the tips of his ears. legs like his? oh, gods... is he coming onto him? is the world really so topsy-turvy on this side of reality? no, that can't be right. not here, of all places. "what, hairy?" he asks, deciding to take a humorous approach, instead. not because he wouldn't... because he would... but... "that easy to tell, huh?" it's a relief to know that will is in a similar position, at least. he can't possibly be untrustworthy, then. the people who survived, the people he knew, would never have taken advantage of someone else. the last of his guard falls away. it helps that he keeps him close. warm. under his arm. gods, that would be embarrassing to admit. "it's just... a little hole i found to stay in," he admits, sighing. "not the best, but i can afford it."

"i'm new to the area too, actually," he says, complete with audible air quotes and a grin that he's starting to suspect danny can only half see in the dark like this. maybe he should stop smiling — glistening teeth and glowing eyes in the dark are rarely a comforting sight, and if the sound of his thundering heartbeat and the tension royal can see in every single muscle are anything to go by, danny is milliseconds away from sprinting headlong into the dark. would he even know where he was going?

"hang on, they have enough to worry about, so you decided to give them more to worry about by putting yourself in potential danger wandering alone through the woods at night? something seems a little backwards here." maybe that's a little harsh, but sometimes that's what's needed. "let me walk you back." it's not a question, or even an offer. even if danny declines, royal is going to keep an eye on him until he's out of the woods. something about this little faun (he's not being condescending, everyone is little to him) has stirred up his protective side. and maybe something more. "and don't worry, i only bite if you ask really nicely. or if you bite me first, but something tells me i don't have to worry about that."

well, when he puts it like that... the whole thing does feel rather stupid, doesn't it? danny had known before going out that these woods were not the same ones that he had grown up with, that had started warm and safe and inviting and only lost those qualities when the dead king had gripped the world in his cold, rotten hands. these woods don't feel choked by evil—it's their natural state. and still, here he is, caught between the gnarled, malicious growth behind him and a gleaming-toothed predator ready to—well, ready to what? it seems silly to sit and talk with him when he would probably make a better meal than conversation partner—fear will do that to a person—and gods, if anyone knew he was here they would want to ream him a new one. and maybe that's what this guy wants, too... but that thought only makes him more nervous. "i don't know," he admits, more pathetically than he would like to admit. "i guess i just thought... that i wanted to be alone." he used to be able to use nature to soothe himself, instead of finding trouble around every corner. not anymore. maybe not ever again. the thought contributes to his slow curl inwards. only the surprise of the offer—err, demand?—keeps him from slumping against the oak entirely. emotionally, it's starting to feel like whiplash. will he, won't he? maybe being smothered under all that fur wouldn't be such a bad thing after all... the foolish nature of that thought ( why is he having them at all? ) and the surprise and the despair and the—the—the everything—is just too much to handle. ugh, what does it even matter? ultimately, he doesn't have anything to lose. he's as safe in royal's presence as he would be in anyone's—not exactly a comforting thought, and yet, and yet— "um—" an intelligent start, but it really doesn't get any better from there. there it is again. that uncertainty. is he just toying with him? "sure?" what else is he supposed to say to something like that? of course royal isn't at risk of being bitten, but the way he says it... he doesn't know what to think anymore. is he prey or is he prey?

#c ;; royal #:') ur right as usual ofc #also DFGUDFGDGDFGDFG #amazing tbh

Imogen tuts, lovingly. "Oh, Danny, of course it mattered. Please don't hide from me. I know we've lost our home, but that just makes it more important to stay close, right? I've lost all my dryad sisters but when I look at you I can still hear the rhythm of your hooves, on grass in the moonlight, and that is home to me now, that memory. You're my faun, if you don't let me worry over you then I'll do nothing but worry over my little sapling out on the balcony and she finds me very overbearing as it is."

Maybe her reaction seems a little melodramatic, but there are so few of them left: it's Imogen's greatest fear, that the few true friends she has left from Aethyria will pull away from her. It frightens her that Danny could keep something like a lost paycheck from her. Of course he must have privacy, but it just seems an awful thing for him to have chosen to bear alone.

just like that, the ice melts and the walls tumble down, his shoulders following close behind. of course he doesn't want to hide from her, of course. she deserves better than to be left out of things just because of what he thinks might happen. sure, she'll worry. but she's right—she worries anyways. and probably worries more when he doesn't give her something clear-cut to worry about... "i'm sorry," he says, leaning against her. she always knows how to bring him right back to where he wants to be, warm and safe and home. "you're right. it wasn't anything serious, just... i had to ditch my check. i could have fought, but i'm tired of fighting, you know? it's just a check. i'm not hurt, i promise."

"Honestly, I think I prefer it this way." What was the alternative? Jules' fae parents turning up like, hey, sweetheart, sorry we abandoned you to another realm for over thirty years, but how about rebuilding some bridges? Eurgh. Jules thinks the fuck not. "So what was I like, human me? Wait, don't tell me -- total dreamboat, absolutely no physical infirmities, loved by all?" He doesn't want to know, but he's got to. Sorry to Danny, who is going to be forced to reminisce about a dead friend, but Jules finds it hard not to be callous on the subject of his human counterpart. Technically changeling Jules is the one that stole his life, but it feels like it's the other way around. Human Jules gets four parents that want him. Changeling Jules gets none.

there isn't really anything to say about that, right or wrong. it's a reasonable way to feel about it, he thinks. doesn't matter that he does. even if it seemed out there or insane, so what? realm-hopping at his age had caused him a lot of problems. he could imagine what could have happened to a child... especially here, of all places. "he was great," he says, voice quiet. aware, now... that it's not an easy topic of conversation for either of them. he doesn't want to make comparisons. it's just... impossible. "he looked just like you. or... i guess you look just like him." and yes, he had been physically in good condition—as far as danny ever knew—and people generally found him agreeable. saying that feels... unfair. to both of them. they're different people, aren't they? "i'm sorry i brought this all back for you," he blurts, fidgeting awkwardly. this is horrible. absolutely horrible. he should never try and have hope again.

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