For cantarella

[fetteredwings]

placeholder meme i am gomen

Comments

Week 1 Monday?

[fetteredwings]

[DEALING WITH THE FALLOUT HERE. Cantarella can find Nala on a swing in the playground near the boarding house, kicking herself off as she pretends she didn't just see a man get snapped into nothing yesterday]

love how we now have to pay with animal crimes

[physalia]

[She wakes up feeling a bit different. Floatier, and like the air around her is dense water, difficult to swim through with any strength.

After yesterday, it's just troubling enough to give her pause. So is the way her hair has become tendril-like and flexible, almost wanting to possess a playful mind of its own. She considers quarantine. Perhaps if she can find someone to fetch supplies.

In the end, she does leave, moving like a ghost, though she catches Nala fairly early. Briefly, she remembers that she didn't have the chance to check in on her in the chaos. Cantarella hesitates and keeps her hands visible, folded in front of her.]

So we face another morning. Do you feel all right, and ready to face it?

we suffer from hubris once again

[fetteredwings]

[ Nala hasn't had much change about her, aside from the ram horns and ears that now adorn her head. She stops swinging as Cantarella comes closer and smiles]

...as long as I seek happiness and freedom, I am ready to face anything. [ thanks Lobelia] And you?

[physalia]

I do feel a little out of sorts. I thought I'd take some herbs from the field and see if it's just temporary discomfort.

[She'd certainly remember those horns after spending Thursday night in such close proximity, especially with how prominent they are. Even at a little distance, she can spot them. Cantarella tilts her head, likely shimmering a little in the light.]

Freedom, is it? I believe it should be everyone's natural right.

[fetteredwings]

[ She is a little distracted by Cantarella's hair. She had always acknowledged Cantarella's beauty, even in the hotdog costume, but there is an even greater ephemeral nature to her appearance now; delicate and transient, something that would fade away if grasped too strongly]

Is that so? Then why is it so many of us have it denied to us over and over again?

[ She lets her thoughts on beauty distract her from the heaviness of her own words, a light distraction that her from sinking too far into a dark place she did not want to peer into]

[physalia]

Why would you clip a bird's wings? [she asks rhetorically. Cantarella doesn't dream of flying away like a bird any longer, but she's always associated the fluttering of wings in the air with freedom.]

If something is free, it cannot be controlled.

[fetteredwings]

[Nala huffs, a bitter sound as she kicks off on her swing again, letting the breeze catch her]

Typical. It is all about control isn't it? Here, back home...wanting to control people is admitting they're too dangerous and powerful to be left on their own, is it not?

[physalia]

More often than not.

[She can't help but think of the Order sending dissenters on "pilgrimages" to their certain death to silence questioners. But the Order, itself, is also being controlled, so—]

Does freedom look like a peaceful life to you?

[fetteredwings]

...yes. [Perhaps it's the ram-state of mind taking over, that loosens her tongue. Or perhaps it is Cantarella whose demeanour and way of speaking makes her lower her guard or the countless of people here who have dedicated themselves to her freedom and safety]

A place where everyone can live happily, safe, without worrying about soldiers and mercenaries.

[She had it once, and the warm faces that once brightened up her world are slowly becoming indistinct, fuzzy around the edges, like sepia photographs.]

[physalia]

In other words, the thing that will bring you the most freedom is peace.

[Nala has already mentioned wanting to be happy as one of the things that drives her, but there's a difference, however faint, between happiness and peace.]

Is that what you remember wanting right before the fog? [If there was something using wishes to trap them here... Cantarella thinks it was rather cruel.]

[fetteredwings]

No. I never believed it was possible. I wanted...I wanted to be able to choose. [She had avoided this conversation before. But maybe Cantarella would understand] To stop my body from moving against my will, so I wouldn't hurt her anymore.

[ She swallows around the lump that suddenly rises in ber throat] I hadn't been able to choose for myself for so long.

[physalia]

[It's far too familiar to Cantarella, and, for a second, it's like the drowning sensation in her lungs is not simply a lack of air, but the Dark Tide itself crashing in, the tail of a sea creature around her chest.

Though she does her best to mask the physical reaction of being almost completely able to breathe, it stalls her from speaking for a moment.]

Your body and mind were no longer under your control?

[fetteredwings]

... my mind is my own wherever I am. Here, so is my body.

[ a pause, as she tries to find the right words to explain it. Fear beckons that feeling of being trapped, of eyes staring at her, her limbs moving against her will. She hugs herself]

But back home, I am something people would like to control very much.

w1, post-body announcement

[physalia]

[The mint she picked is certainly seeing its uses this week, from chewing on it to being made part of an impromptu tea.

This morning, however, that tea is like to cool before Cantarella can finish it. Sitting in the cafetera, she stares into the cup as if it were much deeper waters, expression pensive.]

...

[Only a slight jolt reminds her that Nala is also present.] How's yours, dear? [Nala got regular tea, fortunately. Nothing nearly so medicinal. (Peppermint tea is delicious but you know Cantarella brews this shit stronngggggg.)]

[fetteredwings]

[Sipping at her tea thoughtfully]

I...it is fine? I'm used to brewing black tea for people. It is lovely to have a chance in tea for a change.

Do you feel better?

[physalia]

It's actually been a long time since I've had plain tea. [Before arriving here, she couldn't even think of the taste, and she'd never even tried any foreign blends. This is new...though she can't be sure it was ever worth the trade.]

The mint has been refreshing, but we can always get you something else.

I'm fine. [Immediately.] But I cannot comprehend what happened this past night.

[fetteredwings]

[Nala sips at her tea slowly without tasting it] No, it's fine. I like it. [a pause, and a glance over]

The two deaths, you mean? I don't understand either. I was certain Zvei was with us that night. So how...?

[physalia]

[She sounds like a child eating food that she doesn't particularly like... Cantarella will address that later, perhaps when she's stopped dwelling on the topic at hand.]

The simplest answer is that whatever put some to sleep and left others awake last week happened again. If that's how, then it still doesn't tell us anything with regards to why.

[fetteredwings]

[None of it made sense. Except]

...we all arrived here with a desire deep inside us, didn't we? A wish.

[It is a thought she does not share easily in bigger company. But here, it is just Cantarella]

Desires are all consuming. A careful whisper in one's ear, an opportunity to allow one to take hold of it...I wonder if it's our desires that drive us. One that keeps us awake while the others slumber.

[physalia]

[She watches once again how neutrally Nala handles her cup, detached from the taste, then drinks her own strongly boiled mint. With her Tacet Mark dormant, all tastes are different.]

That we did.

[It's been raised several times in passing and finally centralized just recently. They all wanted something.]

Are you theorizing that those desires might be stronger for the ones who stay awake? Perhaps that they've felt or seen a way to achieve them?

[fetteredwings]

[Hunger slumbers beneath the fear that pulses in her veins; she feels alert. Wary. She needs to run. Or fight. But who is her enemy? It exhausts her and so, everything remains tasteless and unappetising]

Yes. I am familiar with how desires can be intoxicating, regardless of form. Wealth. Love. Revenge...

[She gives a little shrug.]

No matter how sincere they are, no matter how beautiful...there are ways of tapping into those desires to warp them beyond reason.

[She smiles, as if recalling a memory]

It is a dangerous thing sometimes, to 'want'.

[physalia]

Wanting... It can be all-consuming, and it can be used against its bearer.

[When Cantarella examines her own want, she knows both that it's one she could never be driven to regret and that it's one that's shaped her entire life. If it's the same for everyone, it's an obvious way to control them individually and as a group.

It's no wonder that even after coming to the consensus that each of them is driven by some sort of desire or want, they never disclosed them as a group. How could they?]

Giyuu didn't mention it before, and yet... His commitment to his duty suggests a similar desire motivating him.

[fetteredwings]

He was...a kind of soldier wasn't he? Something with a higher purpose. Those tend to be blinded by that, and deny that it is a desire in itself.

[ For the good cause? Revenge? Nala will never know now because Giyuu was dust.]

week 3 body discovery announcement

[fetteredwings]

[ Nala doesn't want to be near anyone right now. She's hiding behind the wishing well, hugging a black cat plushie, trying not to make a sound]

[physalia]

[Most of them spent the night on the beach, but there were a few notable absences. Cantarella had been hesitant to leave so many people who had gathered, given everything that had happened before, but upon waking (and everything that comes along with it), she goes to account for the ones who can't be calculated.

It takes some time, but she gets to the well eventually, and crouches down to look through the surrounding, haphazard fence.]

Nala? Why don't you come on out? [She coaxes, a little motherly, like she's calling to a much younger girl.]

[fetteredwings]

[Nala peeks over her shoulder, her eyes red from crying as she clutches her cat plushie harder]

I am not some cat you can call out like this.

[she plants her face back into the cat, breathing in a scent that did not exist anymore]

[physalia]

I'd pull a cat out by the scruff, actually. You have free will, so I've given you the choice.

[That's very much not true; she's very gentle with animals. Just as she's being gentle with Nala now.

Cantarella navigates around the crumbling boards with ease, though she's still careful not to get too close to the water as she circles the well, coming to stand where Nala is hiding herself.]

[fetteredwings]

[ Nala laughs, a muffled shaky thing that doesn't last for long]

You can be unbelievably rude, somehow.

[ But she doesn't protest Cantarella getting closer, lapsing into a silence before]

...how do people keep hanging onto things they'll know they'll lose?

[physalia]

Excuse my poor manners.

[It's not a very good time for humor; any of it in Cantarella's voice is smoothed by the gentle tide of concern that rolls through it, the post-storm sea that is eerily calm.]

Because holding onto something tangible, even for a short while, is better than the alternative. The emptiness of wondering.

[fetteredwings]

[Cantarella has a lovely voice, like the gentle waves of the sea Nala had only seen once.]

...I thought I was used to it. The emptiness of having nothing at all. Trapped tight in my seal, unable to move, let out only to kill and maim. I didn't want to get attached to anyone anymore. It hurts, so much.

[physalia]

[Cantarella closes her eyes. She would always choose freedom over imprisonment, even if it came along with unbearable pain. But how can she say this to Nala, who has lost everything—much more than she herself has?]

I prefer poisons and medicines at times because at least they stand a chance of curing what they treat. I can console you for this, but I can't heal it. I'm so very sorry.

[fetteredwings]

[Like a fragile flower reaching for the sunlight, Nala unfurls a little to raise her head. Her face is wet with tears but she looks like she wants to hug Cantarella but isn't sure how to ask]

...at least you're honest. I've always liked that part.

[physalia]

[Should Nala let her, she'll take her face in her hands, chin cupped between her palms, and wipe away the tears with both of her thumbs.]

You deserve honesty. Little white lies help the weak dream longer... The strong face the truth head-on. Secrets and the like have their place, but it wouldn't help anyone here.

[fetteredwings]

[ Nala has always craved affection. Physical affection in particular. So she leans in, blinking away tears as she cups Cantarella's hand in place, rubbing her cheek against her palm]

No. But it's maddening how many there are. Now we have to do this again.