crescentview | 🍁🎑🦋 Bug Eater Farm: Autumn Catch-all 🦋🎑🍁

[ He pulls back to look at him, smile dropping from his face. It would be a lie to say he's not surprised in the face of how gravely he treats this.

And as he speaks, he shifts his hand to entwine his fingers in Syrlya's. ]

I know.

[ They're being serious and not romantic about this? Fine. ]

Don't think I don't already understand the risks, or that the realistic hope of my renewed survival on Tyria is slim. But you were the one who taught me hope in the face of impossible odds. [ He squeezes his hand. He feels undefeatable by Syrlya's side. ]

And that's precisely why I am doing this. [ He leans in again to place a kiss to his forehead. ] I want a taste of the life we never had. I know how much I would regret it if I were to watch you walk away without even trying.

[ A phantom of that imagined pain stings at his chest. ]

[They're not being romantic because he is stressed! He is a stressed little plant who has not felt very romanced for most of this date.

Syrlya was the one who instilled hope in Trahearne, once. Using his words against him now, huh?

He doesn't like that he can't actually stop Trahearne from doing something possibly reckless for this. He's always, always hated when the fair thing is to hold back, to let his loved ones risk themselves for because he must respect their choices.

He hates even more that Trahearne is only doing it for him. That kind of burden is crushing.] I'm not saying we cannot try to date here I just--

[He lets out an agitated breath, trying to pull his hand free. He thought having his feelings returned would be more freeing but this conversation has been overwhelming. And he's struggling to balance both of their feelings.] Can we actually try before you build up any more expectations of me? Of us?

[ Trahearne would scold Syrlya if he knew he was trying to carry both of their weight. That's a bad habit you've picked up, sapling.

But he doesn't. He lets Syrlya's hand go when he wrenches it free, and a frustrated frown crosses his face. A different spark ignites in him--this time, it is far less beautiful. Much uglier, less controlled. ]

What is it you want to try, then? [ His temper pulls at his features, his voice comes out a little louder, a little sharper than he intends. ] I am trying. I am showing you my full heart, as you asked, so we are clearly not on the same page.

I thought we were going to try romance, not that you were seriously thinking about ways to return alive like--it has been seven years! What if that does not work out? And what if we don't work out?

[He just drops his bag, rubbing his face with his hands before just burying it in them.]

[ Ah. That's where they're different.

Trahearne had been operating on the assumption that they would work out. And that all the ups and downs that come from navigating a relationship would just be part of it. But it seems Syrlya is too preoccupied with the assumption that they won't.

And that hurts a little.

Regardless, Trahearne cools his temper and calms himself. He feels Syrlya's stress and frustration fill the void left behind, and he gives a deep exhale, trying to strengthen his own calm for him.

He remains quiet for a moment. Though his instinct wants to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, he can recognize when he's done enough touching. ]

I speak from experience when I say that to preoccupy oneself with what-ifs without action only sets one up for failure. [ How many years did he stall on his Wyld Hunt because of that? ] And that's why we try.

Please, have faith in us.

Edited 2023-02-13 09:59 (UTC)

[He... doesn't want to burden Trahearne with how painful the grief had been in the wake of his death. The seven years of it never truly settling and his heart staying firmly latched on the one he lost because those what-ifs were the closest thing he was ever going to have, the closest he would be to anyone when his life made any partnership unideal.

Of course he thinks about it not working out. He's different. He's grieved. It would not be a stretch in his mind that Trahearne will see that and back out again. It would be expected that there's no turning back the clock and their time here is all they'll get until Syrlya jobs him in the Mists.

And if he tells this to Trahearne he will surely carry the blame himself. As of it was ever his fault he could not make it.

He takes a shaky breath, lowering his hands as he turns his attention up to Trahearne.]

... Okay. We try.

[ Trahearne's eyes are there, ready to receive Syrlya's as he looks back up at him again. There's a light feeling in the pit of his stomach, and though small, a smile crosses his face.

It's at once hopeful, but sad. Understanding, but wistful. Things are...complicated. More than he had anticipated. Seven years is a gap difficult to bridge. Syrlya has been through things beyond his imagining, and has accrued scars he will likely never show him.

But Trahearne is determined to make it work. He wants to love all of the scars and the guilt and the pain that weigh on him. And even if he cannot follow Syrlya, he wants to send him home with no regrets. ]

We try.

[ An affirmation, a conclusion to the thesis. Again he feels nervous to be treading into untrodden territory, but at the same time...perhaps a little happy.

Maybe he'll save all of the grand gestures of affection for a little later. ]

I would like to continue our outing, but I know I have caused you undeserved stress, and I do not want to agitate you any further. [ Even though he already has...an idea. ] Let me know how you'd like to proceed.

[ If he needs a moment...or more. ]

Edited (hmm) 2023-02-13 17:31 (UTC)

[He probably does need a moment. The emotional whiplash has made him tired and unsteady. But what comes out instead is--] We might as well see this through. I've already paid to rent the dress.

[He grabs the handle of his shopping bag, hoisting it back up.]

You're renting it?

[ That comes as a surprise actually, though the curiosity in his tone is stronger than the surprise.

Well. That changes things a little bit. whyd u rent a white dress bbgirl. Regardless, Trahearne starts walking again, his pace slow. ]

How long do you get to keep it?

It was only for rental. [Apparently their fancy stuff is too high demand to sell, being seemingly the only boutique to service the whole island.]

I have until the day after tomorrow to return it, in case it needs to be cleaned.

I see. [ Trahearne hums in thought. Well, it'd be a shame to put the dress to waste, but they'll think of something. At least Syrlya doesn't have to worry about returning it tomorrow, and that won't hang on Trahearne's consciousness. ]

I thought it might be nice to explore the mines for a bit, [ and get their minds off this ] but I wouldn't want your dress to get dirty.

[Syrlya looks down at himself.]

Oh, no I couldn't go down there in this. [Last time he did there was a bear and he got injured. Not to mention it's so dirty.] I would have to change... and it would be best if I took the dress home and not brought it down in the bag, either.

[ A nod. At least he's amenable to the idea! That's a relief. ]

A fair call. We should get something to eat when we drop by your house as well. We shouldn't be exploring on empty stomachs.

[ And it will probably make both of them feel better. ]

You want to go at night? I hope you're magic has mostly returned, it can be dangerous down there.

[But he'll turn to start heading off the beach, beach home. It'll be quite a walk and they're going to be up very late, so they might as well get going now.] I still have leftovers of the meal that Mishka brought yesterday. That would be filling enough.

[ Trahearne's pace quickens. He's right!

But mention of Mishka's name causes him to bristle, again, just ever so slightly. He does not want to think about Mishka right now.

Glossing over that. ]

It's mostly returned, actually. [ He smiles, confident. ] I don't have any of my weapons, but I'll make do.

[ He's not worried. A stick and coconut worked well enough for him before, so. ]

It sounds as though yours has.

Somewhat, though I have at least recovered my blade. [Most of his actual magic is funky, but outside the goddess the average wildlife and person doesn't seem to have it. So a sword does just as well.]

I doubt whatever dwells in the mines will be any match for us, between your blade and my necromancy.

[ Total confidence!

When they arrive back at Syrlya's farm, Trahearne waits outside and re-leaves himself. Gone are the fancy coverings, and by the time Syrlya comes back out, he's back in his more familiar getup. A sizeable stick and a rock, fashioned with straw wrappings, have been attached to his waist.

Food is graciously accepted as well. He does not think about Mishka.

When they're ready, Trahearne holds out his hand, a fond, excited smile on his face. ]

Shall we?

[Syrlya goes inside to change, so he can fold the dress and put it away with the shoes before he gears himself in his armor proper. Sword strapped to his waist, and for reheated and brought out for a quick bite.

He takes the plates inside after, grabs his pack and is ready to go. There's a pause as he looks at Trahearne hand, not expecting that, but he takes it all the same.] All right. Let's go.

(( To the mines! ))

🍁🎑🦋 Bug Eater Farm: Autumn Catch-all 🦋🎑🍁

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