❰ of all the places to find respite from the insidious shadows, lalli hadn't expected to have such fortune at the park. honestly, they'd just been passing through as they made tracks for honir's realm - but this domain's patron god took emil's shadow and painted a tree with it.
'what is this?' lalli asked her without entirely realizing he'd spoken, and she explained that it was emil's life, or the things he'd felt during it. red for anger, blue for sadness, yellow for happiness. then she made similarly short work of lalli's, and (after finding it far less interesting than emil's) she departed to do the same with some newer, more fearful arrivals.
all of which leaves lalli to stand here and gaze up the length of the tree, brows knit. there aren't many colors on it. most of the trees are filled with colors, but aside lalli's isn't. not until just over head-height, when the few scattered smudges of blue and red grow more numerous, more vivid, interspersed even with bright streaks of yellow. that must be the expedition. he never quite realized how little he felt, before they left keuruu.
and then, a foot or two farther up the trunk, a jagged splash of deep violet hovers conspicuously near the top of the colored segment, tinged on the edges with an equally dark navy blue. he knows what that patch is, dark like rot, dark like the infection itself, and he can't quite tear his eyes away from it. ❱
( Despite his desire to be a homebody, Emil has found himself wandering more and more the longer he stays in Asgard. For instance, at first he'd kept himself to Honir and Tyr -- those being the only districts that he had any business being in. Tyr at night, Honir in the morning and afternoon. After that routine, though, he figured that if he had to walk clear across Asgard over and over, he might as well take some detours to spice things up.
With some new hullabaloo going on today, it's even more of a pique in interest to wander about elsewhere. Ah, new arrivals are out and about...or maybe the vestiges of hallucinations of new arrivals. Who knows. For the most part he doesn't particularly care.
At this point in the day, he hasn't noticed any familiar faces, but he has taken note of the bright streaks of colour everywhere. They're painted across the bark of so many trees in this district, most of them streaks of many different hues, shades and pigments. The whole rainbow is on display.
But then there's Lalli, standing in front of one tree that's not so varied. Emil approaches, studying the masterpiece with a curious eye. It certainly stands out, though he has no context as to whether that's good or bad -- or really what it is at all. )
Sooo...what are we looking at?
( Since the stare is so locked and intent, it has to mean something. )
❰ it's really a tribute to how vibrant and distracting the park's trees are, that emil didn't even notice when skadi stole his shadow to create his own (or when lalli asked, more or less, the same exact question and got a moderately helpful reply)... and it's a tribute to how distracting this particular tree is, that no stray spark of impatience flares up at the stupid question.
in fact, he doesn't even quite realize it's a stupid question at all. he assumes that emil is following his gaze, and the 'what' in question is the ominous splotch rather than the sparse array of colors as a whole.
so his answer is simple. ❱
Fear.
❰ one word, low and wary. the god didn't tell them what violet means, but lalli can certainly figure it out in context, and that's what it is: fear, starting lighter but darkening and mixing with blue to create something that looks more like a blight on the tree than the art that brightens many of the other trunks.
his lips press together a moment, then in one quick movement he pulls his dagger out of his belt, and he closes the distance between himself and the tree. from there he pushes up on his tiptoes, jamming the blade in under the bark to start to pry the spot loose.
as if that might pry out the memories too, instead of just leaving a hole in some stupid tree. ❱
( It's not like he's ever been the observant sort. Magic happenings, even ones that directly effect him, are much more of a nuisance than anything else. Or, perhaps in a way, an outside force that is controlling his every move and thought is just really illiterate.
Who is to say for sure?
Barring the answer to that question, Emil absorbs all the knowledge he may or may not have missed out on very quickly based on this simple action. This is obviously very personal, and the way with which Lalli clinically decides to maim it...it's certainly not something he's happy with. Outside of the negative implication, it's confusing to him in a certain way. Why Skadi would find this less interesting than the samey, mish-mashed look of the others -- of his own, considering there's still a decent amount of conceit inside of him -- is beyond Emil. It's much more interesting to look at, but if only that didn't mean something so painful.
He moves to place his hands on Lalli's arm, but settles for not needing to stand on tiptoes to grab at his shoulder. )
Stabbing a tree isn't going to change anything. It's just a stupid God trick...you don't have to do that.
❰ by the time emil's hand falls on his shoulder, lalli has sliced a jagged path about a third of the way around the circumference of the splotch, which now hangs as a flap of loose bark as he stills. the dagger hovers there, wedged halfway under the colored bark, for a good couple of seconds after emil's said his piece. and he's right, but lalli's hand tightens around the handle of his dagger nonetheless. ❱
I-... ❰ he has to argue, to say something, but no words are coming. just that one half-choked syllable, lingering in the air between them. finally, his hand drops back down to his side.
a beat, then another. then he closes his eyes, which is basically the only way he's tearing them away from that spot right now. ❱
You stopped... at the pool, didn't you? In the cave. You didn't make it to the end.
( It isn't that Emil is intimidated by the knife, or even threatened by it in general -- not at all. But something that pushes Lalli to violence, something internal and so raw...it makes him swallow hard.
It's why when he answers the question, his voice feels a little soft and hoarse. )
Yeah. You made it all the way, didn't you? ( His own hand doesn't move away, instead nerves making his grip a little tighter. Whatever Lalli is about to tell him has to be extreme on one way or another. )
❰ at first, all he offers is a nod. it's almost a routine between them, by now. the nod, then the wait for some sort of actual words. this time the words take a little bit longer, maybe too long if this were anyone but emil. emil, who was patient with lalli from the very start and has only gotten more so since then. ❱
It wasn't a cave, anymore. ❰ it's a thick sort of whisper now, sounding very much like he has to push every word of it out of empty lungs and past a closed throat. ❱
( As an example of that patience, Emil looks at the fine features of his friend's face, measuring them with a certain finesse he didn't even know he possessed. Sometimes it's harder to figure things out -- like right now, Lalli's measured and taut emotions can lack information -- but with enough time given, so many things can be uncovered.
On the otherhand, Lalli giving him more info with words than features isn't something he'll complain about. )
What was it...? ( His own voice continues to feel on edge, throat dry and heart skipping a little; it feels like he's being told a scary bedtime story, but obviously real and filled with the real terrors he's come to discover. )
( Ah. The duality is certainly a blow. Here, Emil got a nice hallucination and saw some pretty rocks, even if other parts of the cavern weren't so pleasant. Those are mere inconveniences next to a real-time recreation of such an awful night, and a night he needs no clarification for. )
Oh. ( A weak response, but he isn't sure what more to say at the moment. After a pause, his clenching hand on Lalli's shoulder softens slightly in order to often a reassuring rub, even if he knows that isn't very helpful, and a reassurance that pales in comparison to such a traumatic incident.
Who wouldn't still have intense fear after something like that? Emil's voice remains soft and measured, ) You're out now. It's over.
❰ objectively, he knows that emil is trying very hard to be reassuring - but subjectively, finality of his reassurance sparks a flash of something like frustration. he shakes his head with a huff, turning on emil now with something almost defensive in his eyes. ❱
No, you don't- ❰ - get it. that sentence doesn't make it all the way out, but it's not important enough to try again. not compared to, ❱ They attacked and they burned and Onni showed up and Tuuri was bitten - the first time. That was the only time it was right. The one after that, nothing bit her. The one after that, it tore up the Icelander too. Then Sigrun and Mikkel and - ❰ and you ❱ - and people from Saimaa, people who shouldn't have been there, and - and again and again -
❰ by now the defensive edge to his expression has faded to something much more raw and urgent... something he seems to catch onto, because he's closing his eyes again to pull in a slow breath, then let it back out.
his tone is carefully level now and his eyes stay closed this time, but that doesn't mean he isn't going to finish what he started. ❱
I needed... to be away. I didn't want to look at your stupid face until I could stop thinking about how it looks when you're dead.
( The grasp he'd had on Lalli's shoulder breaks, but the limb hangs dumbly in the air. This is definitely a lot of information he's receiving, physically and verbally. It feels like with every sentence, the sudden weight that is crushing his ribs grows larger and heavier.
Various times throughout the mission, his understanding of peak danger was challenged and realized. First it was a real troll in his midst. Those got progressively worse, setting new bars -- but then the incident when Tuuri got infected really stole the show...until he was ready to come to terms with his own mortality. Every time, he's sure that's as bad as it can possibly get.
No, this is as bad as it can possibly get. Being trapped in a hyper-realistic vision of people you know dying, coming back to life, someone dying again. Over and over. Helpless all the while. It's literally unfathomable to Emil, still naive to what true devastation and fear can be.
And, as if he isn't given enough to process and digest -- truly the most spoiled of milks, in this case -- that final blow is so devastating, and in so many ways. If the situations were reversed...how broken would he be? A question he can't answer. Topping it all off, he's the one who forced that.
It's impossible to draw the lines on how right he was to be upset or what about at this point. It doesn't matter at this moment anyway. There isn't any way that Emil can truly feel the fear that Lalli felt in that cave, but seeing his friend become so frantic and unfiltered by that unreality is scary enough to him.
Somewhere in the long and pregnant pause that took place after Lalli finished his last sentence, Emil's hanging arm went limp. Now, he takes it up again, along with the other, to place both hands on Lalli's shoulders, staring at him with welling-up eyes. )
Lalli, I am so sorry. ( Voice cracking under the overwhelming sorrow that he doesn't even have a desire to suppress. )
❰ the silence after lalli's words may be shock on emil's end, but to lalli, it's a chance to recompose. too much of one, really. by the time the hands fall on his shoulders and his eyes open sharply to find emil's, he's pulled himself back from the threshold over which sympathy or empathy might (maybe, possibly) soothe him.
instead it's almost uncomfortable, the way it shines a light on his most vulnerable places. places that aren't vulnerable now that he's gotten things under control, and now he just feels childish and stupid for letting it slip in the first place.
so he looks away and shakes his head, just barely resisting the urge to shrug the hands from his shoulders too. ❱ It's over. ❰ emil's own words from a minute ago, echoed back now like they should have been before, in a tone that he hopes is more reassuring than dismissive (for as awful as lalli is with tone). ❱
( On the opposite end of the spectrum, Emil isn't so used to swallowing and suppressing emotions. Even just the secondhand horror of what Lalli just told him has shaken him to his core, as he's realized just how unimaginable some things can be to him while being a near reality to others. To get angry, to say something so flippant... )
It's over, but I know that doesn't mean you can forget...how can you?
( He feels that same sense, of being childish and stupid, just for different reasons. Maybe what he's doing, what he's saying right, those may also be childish and stupid. His hands still have a tight grip on Lalli's shoulders, and they tremble with the overwhelming feelings that are startling his nerves awake.
Emil blinks, feeling his eyes shake. He's holding a lot of emotion in, trying very desperately to not let it all totally spill over. It's so much harder to read what he should say or do when Lalli has moved from frantic vocalizing, to a totally shut down state. It's like the previous energy has instead leapt from his friend's body and moved into his own all of a sudden. ) It's okay! If you're scared of that and hurt still! Who wouldn't be -- I'm scared and I didn't even see it!
❰ and now emil's rambling and shaking and lalli regrets all of it, he regrets carving at the tree and saying what he said, he regrets coming to this stupid park in the first place - at least he thinks he does. it feels different this time, still a huge mistake but much closer to relief than it has any right to be. he feels lighter, like he's excised something malignant from the space between his lungs and his stomach, but he hates that he feels lighter because now emil looks like this.
his hands lift to wrap around emil's wrists, if only to steady the tremble that (at least currently) seems to be all that he can focus on, then forces himself to meet the swede's gaze again. ❱
It wasn't real. ❰ well - the first one was, but that one was hardly the problem. ❱ And I can handle it. ❰ words he's said before, but usually only after he's pulled away. ❱
( The hands on his wrists do help to ground him slightly. There's truth to what Lalli said. It wasn't real, for the most part. But things don't have to be real to haunt you and leave an impression on you. The possibilities of something, no matter how fantastical, can certainly effect a person, whether it's something as banal as what someone may think of you, or as disturbing as seeing a vision of someone you know dead at your feet.
Emil slinks his arms away, letting them fall forward through Lalli's clutches. Relaxing them doesn't make him feel much better, but it feels a lot more like getting himself together. It's just...the weight of things like that, on top of all that mage ridiculousness, the Tuuri situation in general. )
I don't know how. ( Said softly, almost to himself. Personally, he's still not hard to shake to pieces. He can get over things, but still...so reactionary. Inside, he certainly knows it some extent.
Another things, though: this shouldn't be something he has to worry about anymore. Lalli either. No matter who you asked, being dead and in the afterlife was supposed to be serene, peaceful, splendid. Is this really some sort of hell? It would explain a lot, but the very thought just makes the hand he's snaked around his other arm to help stop it moving clench. ) You shouldn't have to handle things like that at all.
❰ the words earn a shrug, the vague lift of one shoulder. ❱ Maybe not. ❰ lalli doesn't see what good it does to talk about it, what he (or any of them) should or shouldn't have to handle. it doesn't change what they do have to handle. 'should' and 'shouldn't' don't matter. 'can' and 'can't' barely even matter. it's a lesson lalli learned young and hasn't forgotten since.
and one that emil has yet to truly figure out. but that's fine. this isn't the silent world. loath as lalli may be to admit it, emil can afford to be soft here... at least for the most part. ❱
But I can. ❰ the words are decisive, albeit a bit belated. then, in a far more offhanded tone than the words deserve: ❱ You help.
( That's certainly what he is. Soft. Maybe somewhere down the road, he'll thicken his skin enough to avoid panicking and terror at circumstances like this. But that's the future, unfortunately. Fortunately? Maybe both. )
Oh...? ( Even if the words are said with some indifference, it's a very weighty sentiment to Emil. He's too shaken up still to feel the fully effect of the emotional sensation, but it's certainly positive -- warm. He helps. Not only is it a jolt of an ego boost, but also something much deeper. The feeling of being helpful to someone you care about, especially concerning something so large...and from someone who doesn't lie or say thing unnecessarily.
No matter what Lalli's tone is, it's impossible to make those words unimportant.
Despite the weight those words have for Emil, reacting to them is hard, despite the slight calm they've brought to his body. Sometimes he can't shut up, sometimes he has no idea how to come back at something -- this would be the latter scenario. ) I don't know...I want that, you know? To help.
( A really dumb thing to regurgitate, but that's how he feels suddenly. Very dumb. It's also a choppy explanation of his actions, even if the new context that surrounds them is contributing to the sting he feels. That was his only goal, even if he should have taken the bigger picture into account. Whether or not he could have known is a different story, but it's not wrong to say his impulsive nature is a flaw.
❰ honestly, part of the outward indifference was intended to keep emil from getting his hopes up too badly. to convey that he helps without the swede expecting to help every time, because that's just... not something either of them can manage. too many things, emil can't actually do anything about. too many things, lalli has to face alone.
but while emil does seem to have latched onto this as badly as lalli worried he would, he finds that he's... not as upset by it as he should be. even if it does set them up for disappointment later on, here and now it's infinitely better than the desperate helplessness in his eye when he asked lalli how he could possibly forget. and while emil's words may be impressively obvious (even for him), they earn the slightest raise of an eyebrow and: ❱ I know. ❰ in a dry, patient sort of voice - as if he's just informed lalli that he's a swede.
a moment passes, and he casts a glance up at the tree that started all this. barely colored, with the sick-looking violet patch hanging halfway off as if the tree itself were trying to shed the blight. though it still towers overhead, it somehow seems that much smaller now than it did ten minutes ago. and as if that settles it, he says, ❱
C'mon.
❰ and with a vague reassuring pat on emil's shoulder, he's stepping past him to head off toward the edge of the park. they can walk and talk if they'd like, but there's no need to linger in that spot any longer than they already have. ❱
( There's a level of gratitude Emil feels at basically being led away from the catalyst tree. It's not ugly, but certain things that it represents are. He gives it another quick glance over, absorbing the mostly monochromatic colours. That flap of bark catches his eye one more time before he turns away, a few hopped steps behind Lalli before he catches up.
The walk is silent for a while. Lalli certainly isn't talkative under most conditions, and it's usually Emil's role to fill in those large gaps with something. Instead, he's pensive. He's not back to normal by any means, and there are a lot of long and frazzled threads smoothing themselves into a coil in his brain.
There's a lot he doesn't know still. About Lalli, about practically everything. But he's a person who puts in effort, even if it's effort on his own terms and pace. This is an instance where he's definitely willing to put in a little. )
I. ( It's a false start for around 10 seconds. There's a vague concept of what he wants to say swirling around his mind, but it takes some of that aforementioned effort to really find out what he wants to say. ) I didn't mean to chase you off. Uh. Twice.
( During those pensive moments, he revisits that guilt that accumulated in his heart when Lalli fled from him both times. How he still feels wronged, but also like he did some wrongs, too. There's a certain convenience in not being able to understand one another. You can plan out words and leave room for feelings to settle, instead of hurling around hurt in a common language.
It would also be really easy to add in some "buts" and "becauses," as well as bring up more concrete mentions of what was just discussed. In certain cases, he does know better. )
❰ he knew emil would break the silence eventually. though he's walked along quietly so far, it's been with the subtle tension of things still unasked or unsaid. something's on his mind, and knowing emil? it's coming out sooner rather than later.
the false start goes entirely unacknowledged, with lalli's gaze shifting between the buildings around them (they've passed into skadi's city by now, heading roundaboutly in the general honir-ward direction) and the road ahead. and he waits as the seconds go by. as emil pulls together the words he actually wants to say, now that he's taken the leap to say them at all.
'i didn't mean to chase you off. uh. twice.' and again lalli simply says, ❱ I know. ❰ but this time it's a bit softer around the edges. he knows emil meant well. knows that he just wanted to understand.
lalli already apologized for his part, over a half-ruined slice of cake. he doesn't repeat himself now. instead, he takes his own few seconds of silence, though he already knows what he plans to say. then, just as quiet but steady nonetheless: ❱ I didn't know how to be me again. ❰ he doesn't know how else to describe it. ❱ I knew you needed me to be less weak, but I didn't know how. ❰ a slight furrow of his brow, and the faint edge of tired frustration creeps into his tone. ❱ I always know how.
( The 'I know.' is basically expected. It just seems like a very Lalli thing to say to something like that, and it's not like Emile needs more than that anyway. Everything feels like it's basically smoothed over, but it feels good to get out an apology regardless.
It's the rest of it that he feels the urge to balk at. He wanted Lalli to be more open with him, but it still comes as a surprise that his wishes are being fulfilled. To top it off, he didn't really think he'd hear something so...honest? The sentiments also don't fully make sense to him. )
I didn't think about it as being weak -- you aren't. ( Maybe it's because he doesn't have a lot of examples to hold him up to. Maybe it's just the truth. Regardless, it's as true as can be to Emil. Lalli is basically all strength, in how much he does, in how much he can do. Not to mention what all he's had to go through, most of which he isn't even cognizant of. )
I don't expect you to be all yourself after that. Or, I wouldn't have expected it, if I knew.
❰ of course the sentiments don't fully make sense to him. lalli's perspective rarely makes sense to anyone, beyond the surface level. beyond what emil or anyone else gleans in his day-to-day life. lalli knows that. it's one of the main reasons he's never bothered to try and share it.
but that's what emil wanted and that's what emil's getting, at least so long as he doesn't make lalli regret it.
really, there's so many different things he could say to all of that. he can say that he may not be weak now but he was at the time. he can try to explain the ice he nearly fell through in tyr's dorm when klaus decided to talk about it, or the struggle not to drown before that surface froze over at all.
he can say that emil doesn't know anything, and how obvious that is with every single word he speaks, because obviously he expected lalli to be himself - the first sign that something was off sent him storming back to tyr thinking the finn was mad at him.
he can ask why it's always so easy even for emil, of all people, to assume he's just being irrational.
but he doesn't say any of it, for so many reasons. instead, he hums slightly in acknowledgement, and after another few seconds of silence he rolls his shoulders in a bit of a stretch. ❱
I'm tired. ❰ not some big overarching 'i'm exhausted with life', but quite literally 'those shadows kept us up long past bedtime and i'm tired'. ❱
( The most Emil feels he can ask for is for Lalli to talk. He got some talking, so he'll have to live with that. It satisfies him, as is, to have found some sort of medium where that may be possible. There's also quite a bit he's learned from all of this. Adapting approaches, a composite of Lalli's emotional state -- he'll let that sink in more when he's not otherwise preoccupied.
He also agrees with this sentiment: Emil, too, is tired. )
I could sleep. ( Like it's a casual suggestion, not a needed human requirement. He rubs his face absentmindedly, still slowly letting go of that sudden stress. It might be hard to fall asleep, but it'll be worth it once it finally comes.
The walk continues, towards "home." Emil tries to keep the silence this time, mind wandering and continuing the process of winding down. It feels like the thoughts come in spikes; as soon as he tries to push one thing away, something else will come a few moments later. Some are more invasive than others, but most are filled with processing. Thinking about all the things he thought about that feel so ridiculous now, like how he doubted Lalli's continued and consenting connection to him.
It's especially so in hindsight, seeing as they're both walking back to a shared sleeping space, not created by mission or force. It's something he's taken for granted as of late, but it becomes more comforting the longer he sits within the thought. Lalli wouldn't invite him in like that unless he wanted him there. He never seemed the type to appease favors unless he really wanted to.
Saying 'thank you' would feel unnecessary right now, or that it would just get met with a shrug. Hmm...he'll follow the mood and refrain from saying anything. It's better if he keeps it to himself, a nice cushion of surety to help finally calm his nerves. )
❰ and regardless of the ordeal they just waded through, lalli says that he's tired and emil says that he could sleep and it's really as simple as that. as simple as retreating to the quiet and dark of their shared refuge and letting their bodies' need for rest put a few hours of distance between them and the things that lalli said.
for once, emil doesn't break the silence. the occasional glance stolen his way tells lalli that he's no worse for wear because of it, no more lost in his own head than lalli himself is. so the finn sees no reason to interrupt it, not until they've made it back to their room and kicked off their shoes and he's curling up in his nest of bedding beside the foot of emil's mattress. ❱
Goodnight? ❰ there's only the slightest questioning undertone, grasping for any indication that emil is going to be lying awake and ruminating about everything he's learned. ❱
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
❰ ACTION ❱ day 37 (july 15th), skadi district, vænnstaðr park
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With some new hullabaloo going on today, it's even more of a pique in interest to wander about elsewhere. Ah, new arrivals are out and about...or maybe the vestiges of hallucinations of new arrivals. Who knows. For the most part he doesn't particularly care.
At this point in the day, he hasn't noticed any familiar faces, but he has taken note of the bright streaks of colour everywhere. They're painted across the bark of so many trees in this district, most of them streaks of many different hues, shades and pigments. The whole rainbow is on display.
But then there's Lalli, standing in front of one tree that's not so varied. Emil approaches, studying the masterpiece with a curious eye. It certainly stands out, though he has no context as to whether that's good or bad -- or really what it is at all. )
Sooo...what are we looking at?
( Since the stare is so locked and intent, it has to mean something. )
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in fact, he doesn't even quite realize it's a stupid question at all. he assumes that emil is following his gaze, and the 'what' in question is the ominous splotch rather than the sparse array of colors as a whole.
so his answer is simple. ❱
Fear.
❰ one word, low and wary. the god didn't tell them what violet means, but lalli can certainly figure it out in context, and that's what it is: fear, starting lighter but darkening and mixing with blue to create something that looks more like a blight on the tree than the art that brightens many of the other trunks.
his lips press together a moment, then in one quick movement he pulls his dagger out of his belt, and he closes the distance between himself and the tree. from there he pushes up on his tiptoes, jamming the blade in under the bark to start to pry the spot loose.
as if that might pry out the memories too, instead of just leaving a hole in some stupid tree. ❱
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Who is to say for sure?
Barring the answer to that question, Emil absorbs all the knowledge he may or may not have missed out on very quickly based on this simple action. This is obviously very personal, and the way with which Lalli clinically decides to maim it...it's certainly not something he's happy with. Outside of the negative implication, it's confusing to him in a certain way. Why Skadi would find this less interesting than the samey, mish-mashed look of the others -- of his own, considering there's still a decent amount of conceit inside of him -- is beyond Emil. It's much more interesting to look at, but if only that didn't mean something so painful.
He moves to place his hands on Lalli's arm, but settles for not needing to stand on tiptoes to grab at his shoulder. )
Stabbing a tree isn't going to change anything. It's just a stupid God trick...you don't have to do that.
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I-... ❰ he has to argue, to say something, but no words are coming. just that one half-choked syllable, lingering in the air between them. finally, his hand drops back down to his side.
a beat, then another. then he closes his eyes, which is basically the only way he's tearing them away from that spot right now. ❱
You stopped... at the pool, didn't you? In the cave. You didn't make it to the end.
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It's why when he answers the question, his voice feels a little soft and hoarse. )
Yeah. You made it all the way, didn't you? ( His own hand doesn't move away, instead nerves making his grip a little tighter. Whatever Lalli is about to tell him has to be extreme on one way or another. )
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It wasn't a cave, anymore. ❰ it's a thick sort of whisper now, sounding very much like he has to push every word of it out of empty lungs and past a closed throat. ❱
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On the otherhand, Lalli giving him more info with words than features isn't something he'll complain about. )
What was it...? ( His own voice continues to feel on edge, throat dry and heart skipping a little; it feels like he's being told a scary bedtime story, but obviously real and filled with the real terrors he's come to discover. )
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❰ more commonly known as the place they made their stand against the spirits and whatever manner of infected those spirits brought in tow.
the place where tuuri was bitten. ❱
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Oh. ( A weak response, but he isn't sure what more to say at the moment. After a pause, his clenching hand on Lalli's shoulder softens slightly in order to often a reassuring rub, even if he knows that isn't very helpful, and a reassurance that pales in comparison to such a traumatic incident.
Who wouldn't still have intense fear after something like that? Emil's voice remains soft and measured, ) You're out now. It's over.
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No, you don't- ❰ - get it. that sentence doesn't make it all the way out, but it's not important enough to try again. not compared to, ❱ They attacked and they burned and Onni showed up and Tuuri was bitten - the first time. That was the only time it was right. The one after that, nothing bit her. The one after that, it tore up the Icelander too. Then Sigrun and Mikkel and - ❰ and you ❱ - and people from Saimaa, people who shouldn't have been there, and - and again and again -
❰ by now the defensive edge to his expression has faded to something much more raw and urgent... something he seems to catch onto, because he's closing his eyes again to pull in a slow breath, then let it back out.
his tone is carefully level now and his eyes stay closed this time, but that doesn't mean he isn't going to finish what he started. ❱
I needed... to be away. I didn't want to look at your stupid face until I could stop thinking about how it looks when you're dead.
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Various times throughout the mission, his understanding of peak danger was challenged and realized. First it was a real troll in his midst. Those got progressively worse, setting new bars -- but then the incident when Tuuri got infected really stole the show...until he was ready to come to terms with his own mortality. Every time, he's sure that's as bad as it can possibly get.
No, this is as bad as it can possibly get. Being trapped in a hyper-realistic vision of people you know dying, coming back to life, someone dying again. Over and over. Helpless all the while. It's literally unfathomable to Emil, still naive to what true devastation and fear can be.
And, as if he isn't given enough to process and digest -- truly the most spoiled of milks, in this case -- that final blow is so devastating, and in so many ways. If the situations were reversed...how broken would he be? A question he can't answer. Topping it all off, he's the one who forced that.
It's impossible to draw the lines on how right he was to be upset or what about at this point. It doesn't matter at this moment anyway. There isn't any way that Emil can truly feel the fear that Lalli felt in that cave, but seeing his friend become so frantic and unfiltered by that unreality is scary enough to him.
Somewhere in the long and pregnant pause that took place after Lalli finished his last sentence, Emil's hanging arm went limp. Now, he takes it up again, along with the other, to place both hands on Lalli's shoulders, staring at him with welling-up eyes. )
Lalli, I am so sorry. ( Voice cracking under the overwhelming sorrow that he doesn't even have a desire to suppress. )
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instead it's almost uncomfortable, the way it shines a light on his most vulnerable places. places that aren't vulnerable now that he's gotten things under control, and now he just feels childish and stupid for letting it slip in the first place.
so he looks away and shakes his head, just barely resisting the urge to shrug the hands from his shoulders too. ❱ It's over. ❰ emil's own words from a minute ago, echoed back now like they should have been before, in a tone that he hopes is more reassuring than dismissive (for as awful as lalli is with tone). ❱
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It's over, but I know that doesn't mean you can forget...how can you?
( He feels that same sense, of being childish and stupid, just for different reasons. Maybe what he's doing, what he's saying right, those may also be childish and stupid. His hands still have a tight grip on Lalli's shoulders, and they tremble with the overwhelming feelings that are startling his nerves awake.
Emil blinks, feeling his eyes shake. He's holding a lot of emotion in, trying very desperately to not let it all totally spill over. It's so much harder to read what he should say or do when Lalli has moved from frantic vocalizing, to a totally shut down state. It's like the previous energy has instead leapt from his friend's body and moved into his own all of a sudden. ) It's okay! If you're scared of that and hurt still! Who wouldn't be -- I'm scared and I didn't even see it!
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his hands lift to wrap around emil's wrists, if only to steady the tremble that (at least currently) seems to be all that he can focus on, then forces himself to meet the swede's gaze again. ❱
It wasn't real. ❰ well - the first one was, but that one was hardly the problem. ❱ And I can handle it. ❰ words he's said before, but usually only after he's pulled away. ❱
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Emil slinks his arms away, letting them fall forward through Lalli's clutches. Relaxing them doesn't make him feel much better, but it feels a lot more like getting himself together. It's just...the weight of things like that, on top of all that mage ridiculousness, the Tuuri situation in general. )
I don't know how. ( Said softly, almost to himself. Personally, he's still not hard to shake to pieces. He can get over things, but still...so reactionary. Inside, he certainly knows it some extent.
Another things, though: this shouldn't be something he has to worry about anymore. Lalli either. No matter who you asked, being dead and in the afterlife was supposed to be serene, peaceful, splendid. Is this really some sort of hell? It would explain a lot, but the very thought just makes the hand he's snaked around his other arm to help stop it moving clench. ) You shouldn't have to handle things like that at all.
( It's all quite unfair, isn't it? )
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and one that emil has yet to truly figure out. but that's fine. this isn't the silent world. loath as lalli may be to admit it, emil can afford to be soft here... at least for the most part. ❱
But I can. ❰ the words are decisive, albeit a bit belated. then, in a far more offhanded tone than the words deserve: ❱ You help.
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Oh...? ( Even if the words are said with some indifference, it's a very weighty sentiment to Emil. He's too shaken up still to feel the fully effect of the emotional sensation, but it's certainly positive -- warm. He helps. Not only is it a jolt of an ego boost, but also something much deeper. The feeling of being helpful to someone you care about, especially concerning something so large...and from someone who doesn't lie or say thing unnecessarily.
No matter what Lalli's tone is, it's impossible to make those words unimportant.
Despite the weight those words have for Emil, reacting to them is hard, despite the slight calm they've brought to his body. Sometimes he can't shut up, sometimes he has no idea how to come back at something -- this would be the latter scenario. ) I don't know...I want that, you know? To help.
( A really dumb thing to regurgitate, but that's how he feels suddenly. Very dumb. It's also a choppy explanation of his actions, even if the new context that surrounds them is contributing to the sting he feels. That was his only goal, even if he should have taken the bigger picture into account. Whether or not he could have known is a different story, but it's not wrong to say his impulsive nature is a flaw.
He's a lesson learner. He'll work on it. )
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but while emil does seem to have latched onto this as badly as lalli worried he would, he finds that he's... not as upset by it as he should be. even if it does set them up for disappointment later on, here and now it's infinitely better than the desperate helplessness in his eye when he asked lalli how he could possibly forget. and while emil's words may be impressively obvious (even for him), they earn the slightest raise of an eyebrow and: ❱ I know. ❰ in a dry, patient sort of voice - as if he's just informed lalli that he's a swede.
a moment passes, and he casts a glance up at the tree that started all this. barely colored, with the sick-looking violet patch hanging halfway off as if the tree itself were trying to shed the blight. though it still towers overhead, it somehow seems that much smaller now than it did ten minutes ago. and as if that settles it, he says, ❱
C'mon.
❰ and with a vague reassuring pat on emil's shoulder, he's stepping past him to head off toward the edge of the park. they can walk and talk if they'd like, but there's no need to linger in that spot any longer than they already have. ❱
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The walk is silent for a while. Lalli certainly isn't talkative under most conditions, and it's usually Emil's role to fill in those large gaps with something. Instead, he's pensive. He's not back to normal by any means, and there are a lot of long and frazzled threads smoothing themselves into a coil in his brain.
There's a lot he doesn't know still. About Lalli, about practically everything. But he's a person who puts in effort, even if it's effort on his own terms and pace. This is an instance where he's definitely willing to put in a little. )
I. ( It's a false start for around 10 seconds. There's a vague concept of what he wants to say swirling around his mind, but it takes some of that aforementioned effort to really find out what he wants to say. ) I didn't mean to chase you off. Uh. Twice.
( During those pensive moments, he revisits that guilt that accumulated in his heart when Lalli fled from him both times. How he still feels wronged, but also like he did some wrongs, too. There's a certain convenience in not being able to understand one another. You can plan out words and leave room for feelings to settle, instead of hurling around hurt in a common language.
It would also be really easy to add in some "buts" and "becauses," as well as bring up more concrete mentions of what was just discussed. In certain cases, he does know better. )
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the false start goes entirely unacknowledged, with lalli's gaze shifting between the buildings around them (they've passed into skadi's city by now, heading roundaboutly in the general honir-ward direction) and the road ahead. and he waits as the seconds go by. as emil pulls together the words he actually wants to say, now that he's taken the leap to say them at all.
'i didn't mean to chase you off. uh. twice.' and again lalli simply says, ❱ I know. ❰ but this time it's a bit softer around the edges. he knows emil meant well. knows that he just wanted to understand.
lalli already apologized for his part, over a half-ruined slice of cake. he doesn't repeat himself now. instead, he takes his own few seconds of silence, though he already knows what he plans to say. then, just as quiet but steady nonetheless: ❱ I didn't know how to be me again. ❰ he doesn't know how else to describe it. ❱ I knew you needed me to be less weak, but I didn't know how. ❰ a slight furrow of his brow, and the faint edge of tired frustration creeps into his tone. ❱ I always know how.
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It's the rest of it that he feels the urge to balk at. He wanted Lalli to be more open with him, but it still comes as a surprise that his wishes are being fulfilled. To top it off, he didn't really think he'd hear something so...honest? The sentiments also don't fully make sense to him. )
I didn't think about it as being weak -- you aren't. ( Maybe it's because he doesn't have a lot of examples to hold him up to. Maybe it's just the truth. Regardless, it's as true as can be to Emil. Lalli is basically all strength, in how much he does, in how much he can do. Not to mention what all he's had to go through, most of which he isn't even cognizant of. )
I don't expect you to be all yourself after that. Or, I wouldn't have expected it, if I knew.
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but that's what emil wanted and that's what emil's getting, at least so long as he doesn't make lalli regret it.
really, there's so many different things he could say to all of that. he can say that he may not be weak now but he was at the time. he can try to explain the ice he nearly fell through in tyr's dorm when klaus decided to talk about it, or the struggle not to drown before that surface froze over at all.
he can say that emil doesn't know anything, and how obvious that is with every single word he speaks, because obviously he expected lalli to be himself - the first sign that something was off sent him storming back to tyr thinking the finn was mad at him.
he can ask why it's always so easy even for emil, of all people, to assume he's just being irrational.
but he doesn't say any of it, for so many reasons. instead, he hums slightly in acknowledgement, and after another few seconds of silence he rolls his shoulders in a bit of a stretch. ❱
I'm tired. ❰ not some big overarching 'i'm exhausted with life', but quite literally 'those shadows kept us up long past bedtime and i'm tired'. ❱
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He also agrees with this sentiment: Emil, too, is tired. )
I could sleep. ( Like it's a casual suggestion, not a needed human requirement. He rubs his face absentmindedly, still slowly letting go of that sudden stress. It might be hard to fall asleep, but it'll be worth it once it finally comes.
The walk continues, towards "home." Emil tries to keep the silence this time, mind wandering and continuing the process of winding down. It feels like the thoughts come in spikes; as soon as he tries to push one thing away, something else will come a few moments later. Some are more invasive than others, but most are filled with processing. Thinking about all the things he thought about that feel so ridiculous now, like how he doubted Lalli's continued and consenting connection to him.
It's especially so in hindsight, seeing as they're both walking back to a shared sleeping space, not created by mission or force. It's something he's taken for granted as of late, but it becomes more comforting the longer he sits within the thought. Lalli wouldn't invite him in like that unless he wanted him there. He never seemed the type to appease favors unless he really wanted to.
Saying 'thank you' would feel unnecessary right now, or that it would just get met with a shrug. Hmm...he'll follow the mood and refrain from saying anything. It's better if he keeps it to himself, a nice cushion of surety to help finally calm his nerves. )
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for once, emil doesn't break the silence. the occasional glance stolen his way tells lalli that he's no worse for wear because of it, no more lost in his own head than lalli himself is. so the finn sees no reason to interrupt it, not until they've made it back to their room and kicked off their shoes and he's curling up in his nest of bedding beside the foot of emil's mattress. ❱
Goodnight? ❰ there's only the slightest questioning undertone, grasping for any indication that emil is going to be lying awake and ruminating about everything he's learned. ❱
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