crescentview | spring catch-all for the bug eater farm

I think it's simply a matter of approach. I know many are unhappy and take a more callous attitude with her, but that would be counterproductive. If her kindness is transactional, then we simply have to offer her respect--or more--in return.

[ Honestly, he just treats the goddess like his mom. ]

[ Sometimes, none of this feels real. Save for the commander, the faces he sees throughout the day feel like figments of his imagination in the wee hours of the morning like this. Van Zieks, Diluc, Kaspar. Kaeya. Trahearne feels like he could have easily made all these people up, individuals created in a consciousness at the brink of death in order to ease the pain of the looming end. Had he truly done anything to earn their friendship? Their...affection?

Quiet, approaching footsteps gradually lift him from his reverie. These he has come to recognize as Kaspar's. He drops his gaze from the moon and glances over his shoulder; he can feel the tension leaving him as his housemate nears. ]

No, not at all.

[ At last a small smile graces Trahearne's face. With a gentle touch he places his hand to Kaspar's and slowly gets to his feet. By now the other man's hands are a familiar warmth, and it eases the troubles that quietly brew beneath the nighttime sky.

As he reaches his full height, however, Trahearne's smile falls. In its place is a frown, born from distress and terror. Though he knows he can never, will never return to the horrors of the jungle, the memories and scars are still fresh in his mind. ]

I had another nightmare.

[ Kaeya typically holds himself high and confident, with his chin up and chest puffed out, but as he walks through the forest, he displays none of those traits. His shoulders are low, he drags his feet, his eye gazes across the floor, he looks like a shadow of himself - though it might be more accurate to say that he's more like a ghost of himself, especially with his blood-stained clothes. ]

[ He cradled Diluc as he laid dying, bleeding out from his wounds. All that blood has now soaked into his uniform, but he doesn't seem to care. It doesn't seem like he even has the energy to. He looks exhausted, like the fighting spirit was kicked out of him. With his head hung low, he looks smaller and weaker than ever before. ]

[ It's not often someone walks out this way, considering their location in the woods. There are other forest farms, yes, but their neighbors don't often wander in this direction, unless they need Kaspar or Trahearne specifically.

So the footsteps immediately draw Trahearne's attention as he tends to the earth, plants seeds. He isn't exactly sure who he's looking at at first--with Kaeya's usual swagger gone, it's his mop of blue hair that ultimately tips him off. ]

Kaeya?

[ And...there's blood. Lots of it. ]

Kaeya?!

[ Trahearne immediately drops everything and rushes to him, shock and worry written all over his face. ]

What happened?!

[ Typically, Kaeya is alert, constantly aware of his surroundings, but not at this moment. It takes Trahearne's second calling of his name before he realizes and raises his head. His face is tear-stained and his eyes are puffy. He looks absolutely exhausted, and he is, after crying his heart out for ten minutes straight. ]

[ After taking notice of Trahearne, he lowers his head again to look down at himself. He looks... awful. The blood will definitely never come out. It's too much and too dark. ]

... it's not my blood.

[ He says as if that actually makes things any better. ]

[ It does not, in fact, make it any better. Nor does it even answer the question.

Trahearne's eyes dart up from the blood to Kaeya's face--he looks so distraught, and that might be an understatement. Whatever happened, it seems like it's going to be more complicated than he anticipated.

He wraps his arms around Kaeya's shoulders and begins guiding him towards the house. ]

Come. Let's get you inside and cleaned up. And I'm here to listen if you want to talk.

[ Who cares if the blood will never come out? He's going to try anyway. ]

plants
- 3 cabbage
- 1 turnip
- 2 strawberries

mushrooms:
- 1 morel, 3 common white, 2 matsutake
- another 1 morel, 1 common white

flowers:
- 3 tulips, 1 hyacinth, 3 forget-me-not
- 1 forget-me-not

animals:
- horse (Gealá: ◇, only her mane/tail are mostly white.)
- dog (Delle: ◇, only no shutterstock logo)
- chicken
- goat

misc home items:
- elephant teapot
- 40lb wheel of cheese

On Kaspar's side of the room:
- two worms on a string, a small oak keepsake box
- fluffy sleep mask

Edited 2023-01-15 10:03 (UTC)

....
[Making a face.]

I suppose I simply have little patience for such things, at the moment.
[He's just thinking his thoughts about Canon Events.]

[ There is no relief in that answer. And even less in that expression once it falls. Kaspar's remains peaceful, though worry threads his brow and tiredness is hinted at in its edges. Their traumas might not be the same, though there is something to be said for those that have both experienced war. Kaspar was lucky enough to leave most of his nightmares behind.

It is affection for his roommate that moves Kaspar forward. Slowly, with all the careful movement afforded someone , wrapping a free arm over his shoulders. A half of a hug that he lifts his heels slightly for, so as not to break the contact of their hands.

There is a pause. ]

... was it the same?

[ Regardless of what's going on in that lawyer brain of his, Trahearne offers a reassuring smile in turn.

Well. As reassuring this whole situation can be. ]

I understand. Leave the talking to me, in that case--should the need ever arise.

But we can hope it will not.

... I will keep that in mind.

[That said, he offers a bow.]

But for now... I believe I will take my leave.

[ Trahearne offers a polite nod in turn. ]

Farewell.

[ And he turns to the bookshelves, not bothering to watch van Zieks leave. He can't even remember why he came here now... ]

[ Trahearne leans forward slightly to make it easier for Kaspar to wrap his arm over his shoulder. But after a moment, though he likes the contact of their hands, it suddenly doesn't feel like enough. Like his fears and scars might bleed through in their tentative contact.

He lets go of Kaspar's hand and wraps both of his arms around his torso in a gentle hold, and presses his face into his shoulder.

If anything, it grounds him, distracts him from his ever-churning thoughts. ]

It was. [ His voice is muffled against the fabric of Kaspar's clothes.

He pauses. ]

But it does not make it hurt any less.

[ Kaspar allows Trahearne's hand to slip from his. Trudging through the forest, the smell of trees and flowers still cling to the clean fabric of his clothes. It is hard to take comfort in the feeling of being embrace while the horror of nightmares lingers beneath the surface. His freed hand reaches for the back of the other man's head; an attempt at the gentle, comforting press of reassurance and caring fingers up his nape.

This close, because he cannot see his face and Kaspar has become far too accustomed to his presence, the words come noticeably easier and quieter. He turns his head towards him, without minding proximity. ]

... would you, like to talk about it?

[ With its proximity the scent of the forest and all its life on Kaspar's clothes calm Trahearne. Flashes of home pass through his mind; there is nowhere better that soothes his troubles than his mother's boughs. Funny he should think of her right in this moment, but he isn't going to argue.

He doesn't respond right away. It's only after a moment spent inhaling the scent of the earth and taking in Kaspar's warmth does he say anything. ]

I don't know if I should.

[ He lifts his head slightly, turning to look at his housemate. He doesn't seem to mind the proximity either. ]

I wouldn't want to burden you.

[ Kaspar is predictably patient, quiet and still save for the comforting ministrations of his hand down from head to back. But it is only once Trahearne answers that he finds himself able to be taken up by the comfort too. Kaspar relaxes then, as does his smile.

He might not want to go home, but there are the little things he didn't know he'd taken for granted. Like glowing together in the dark. Old memories, softened by new ones like the moonlight and the sudden feeling of closeness. Arm's length, yet now someone else has slipped past. It is strange to think how naturally it happened without his notice. Built up in the domestic moments; shared toils, respect, and rewards eased the way. An understanding of war and pain too, despite sharing little to nothing of his personal experience with the other. Those memories were not for lingering in.

There is little that Trahearne could say to burden him. His voice is a soft whisper. Though there is no pressure in it either way. He is a good listener. ]

It is no burden.

[ Perhaps Kaspar thinks it no burden, but he doesn't know the weight of it yet. One mistake, one impulse that cost the lives of hundreds. He has yet to speak of it to anyone--not even Syrlya. He doesn't think the horrors of the jungle and all the nightmares that stem from it should be talked about in a place as idyllic as Crescentview. There is farming to do, after all.

Eventually, he peels himself from Kaspar, just far enough to way to look at him, still close enough that his arms remain around him. For a moment, Trahearne simply observes his glow, noting how both similar and different it is from his own, before he speaks in a quiet voice. ]

I made a mistake, Kaspar. And it cost me everything.

[ How many deaths come down to the mistakes made by the ignorant or the well intentioned? Kaspar is not proud of the ones he is responsible for, personally or under his command. But he doesn't think of any of that right now. His attention is captured by Trahearne with a caring intensity. It is a look reserved for working on his passions alone, or when he believes himself to be. It is not often directed at people, after the rebukes of his youth. Impulsively, it feels right.

Kaspar's hand pauses, thumb grazing in gentle reassurance. Warm emotion coats his calm voice, because this feels important, brittle in its structure but felt deeply. The words matter to him, however quiet. ]

... You exist here. That is something.

[ Kaspar's stare is returned with equal intensity, yellow eyes piercing in the darkness. Trahearne's look, however, is one of analysis, of study. What goes on in Kaspar's head, what drives him still remains much of a mystery to Trahearne. Regardless, though, he feels comforted by the look, warmth from both his gaze and his hands seeping through him like moonlight.

The reassurance comes as a surprise. He does exist here. He is alive here. That is not nothing. The worry across his face eases when he hears that, and he offers Kaspar a slow blink. ]

I do. And it is.

[ But everything--all the circumstances that led to this very moment--came at such a high price. Is it okay for him to live in peace farming, pursuing the one person he had resigned himself to never pursuing at all due to duty, when it came at the cost of thousands of Pact soldier and sylvari lives? Why does he get this, and they don't?

Distress settles over Trahearne's countenance again; a quiet storm of doubts roil in his chest. His hold on Kaspar tightens ever so slightly, as though seeking forgiveness for the wrong he is inevitably creating by simply being here. And his head dips again, this time burying himself in the crook of Kaspar's neck. ]

[ The light blue glow of his eyes does not flicker through the analysis of yellow. His gaze does not falter, a testament to Kaspar's soft and caring brand of strength. Not the type he was ever appreciated for back home, though they both know he holds the physical kind as well. He smiles at the initial response.

In his ignorance, Kaspar had meant the mistake didn't cost Trahearne this refuge, the peace they've both found and nurtured here. That no matter the mistake, existence in the present matters. But he also knows a chord once struck. Especially with the distress and the tightening of that cool grip. He does the same once Trahearne's head finds the crook of his neck. Kaspar starts to stroke the back of it gently again. He leans his head just so, to rest against the other man's. His strength lends his embrace weight, protective and as warm as the tapered and muscular torso Trahearne has looped and tightened his arms around.

What had he longed for most, and never recieved, after waking up from the horrors of the tunnels? Being held, finding sleep in the innocent warmth of someone --or his lonely imaginings of it. Unlike the cold and unfeeling dark. If there is a long enough silence, Kaspar is comfortable in it. It is a warm embrace of Trahearne whole; mistakes and imperfections, weaknesses and vulnerabilities. And also of the man he is now, no matter what happened for him to be here with Kaspar in the moonlight.

If Trahearne says nothing still, Kaspar eventually will. Because he is willing to stand here until he passes out, but he'd longed for his bed before finding Trahearne out here. ]

[ The way Kaspar leans his head against Trahearne's, how he strokes the back of his neck--it soothes him. The anxiety and guilt dips and rises with each thought that passes through his mind, about second chances. About what he should or should not be doing. To offer wordless comfort is a powerful skill, a testament both to Kaspar's character and their own bond as friends and housemates, but all of the worst parts of Trahearne seem to be doing their best to fight back. And they're winning.

He does eventually speak up, not long after. He lifts his head, ever so slightly, not particularly aware of how close they are. When he speaks, his voice is quiet and quivers slightly. ]

I don't deserve this.

[ The peace. The comfort. Kaspar's caring warmth. And these nightmares are doing well to remind him. ]

[ Kaspar is quiet still for a moment, in case there are any more words loitering in the wings. It feels to Kaspar as though Trahearne is being held together in more ways than one by his comfort. And he cares for Trahearne deeply enough to provide it unquestioningly. It matters not, what mistakes were made. No matter how grave, Trahearne cares about the consequences and that is what matters to Kaspar. The same forgiveness he provided himself, however shaky its foundation far beneath the surface.

Disagreements are things Kaspar actively avoids. White lies, mistruths, omissions, and distractions are his most adept and indirect tools. Which makes the way he speaks with resoluteness again striking, grip tight. ]

I am glad you are here, deserving or not.

[ And as he says it, his freer arm finally joins the first as his hand falls from Trahearne's neck. Both strong arms wrap around his shoulders tightly, as if attempting to anchor him to the present. Kaspar's feelings are the only things he has the authority to claim. He believes Trahearne deserves it all, but there is no convincing the suffering with more than piecemeal truths. And maybe he really doesn't deserve it. Kaspar wouldn't care, perhaps a bit selfishly. ]

[ Rarely has another ever told Trahearne that they're happy he's here. Not for a job, not for a specific purpose, but just to be.

The admission almost moves him to tears, him already being in an emotional state. A small voice in the darkest corners of his mind nag him, telling him that Kaspar only says this because he doesn't know anything about Trahearne. But what he sees, what he feels does well to silence that sentiment. He clings to what Kaspar says to him, physically holding him closer, hoping it will absolve him of his guilt. ]

...Thank you, Kaspar. [ His voice is thick, though genuine all the same. In Kaspar's tightened hold, he leans to rest his temple against his. ] I'm glad I'm here, too.

[ As selfish as it is for him to admit such a thing. ]

[ Kaspar holds him as long as he likes, those words prompting a gentle squeeze. Quiet and content with their temples resting, the sentiment he feels in the other's voice and hold on him is contagious; welling his eyes with tears that he closes his eyes against.

He isn't sure what posesses him in the warm silence that follows the admission. Impulse and utter relief at the truth he senses in those words has him turning his head after a beat. Raising his heels just enough, he moves to press his lips to Trahearne's temple.

His arms are occupied, but Kaspar's aim is to press their foreheads together in the wake of it, gently with a small and grateful smile. His eyes are still wet, but he is searching again. As if he can read Trahearne's thoughts through his eyes. ]

... are you, still tired?

[ In all honesty, Trahearne is not expecting that.

In the brief moment between the kiss and when their foreheads touch, he looks at his housemate, eyes wide in surprise. It shocks him out of his melancholy, however, and warms him from the inside with acceptance. One he isn't sure is warranted, yet it feels strangely appropriate coming from Kaspar.

And now, with the tension gone, he feels the exhaustion of a night's rest lost seep through his limbs. ]

...I am.

[ He is grateful he has such a good friend and housemate.

Yet he isn't sure why his gratitude has taken over his own impulses in this way--his eyes drop from Kaspar's to his lips as he shifts his head ever so slightly, just enough to lightly brush their lips together. ]

I should go back to sleep.

spring catch-all for the bug eater farm

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+ additional farm inventory

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