bluminescence (
bluminescence) wrote in
crescentview2023-01-09 04:36 pm
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π²πΈβοΈ bug eater farm: summertime catch-all βοΈπΈπ²
π WHO: Kaspar Blumlund and/or Trahearne + visitors
π WHAT: Summer/Jan. catch-all for the chill bug eater farm
π WHEN: throughout this season
π WHERE: their farm in the forest
π WARNINGS: marked in headers and updated here eventually
[ top levels/details in the comments below ]
π WHAT: Summer/Jan. catch-all for the chill bug eater farm
π WHEN: throughout this season
π WHERE: their farm in the forest
π WARNINGS: marked in headers and updated here eventually
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Were you doing that? [He lifts his head quizzically.] I thought you were just busy making friends. You need that, you know. Friends. I'm glad Kaspar is there.
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As am I. But I am fine on the friends front.
[ There's the pang of heartache again. He inhaled, nostrils filling with the humid summer air as it eases the hurt. ]
I would rather spend more time with you.
[ Especially if this time is limited. ]
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[ Trahearne lets him free this time, turning to look at him as he pauses.
He only talks again when he looks back up. ]
But there was a part of me that was certain you didn't need me anymore. And it was my own fault for assuming so without even asking.
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I never saw our friendship as bound only be need.
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Want, then.
[ And he falls quiet again, letting Syrlya think about it, if he's capable. ]
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He sighs after a moment, shifting to try and get a better look at Trahearne's face.] Trahearne, Trahearne, Trahearne... When are you going to see yourself for what you are? You are so quick to diminish yourself. You have done so much. You are so much.
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He meets Syrlya with a strained, lopsided smile. ]
You always give me hope I have a chance with you when you say that.
[ He looks away again, adjusting him in his arms. He'd probably be tired by now if Syrlya wasn't so light. ]
You are my sun, Syrlya. That you think I could be even a fraction of your brilliance makes my heart ache.
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You are brilliant. [He huffs.] Honestly, Trahearne! You are wise, devout, compassionate, and an inspiration to many people even after your death. Do you know how many of our siblings are cleansing Orr because they believed in you? How the Pact could only come to fruition because everyone was willing to rally under you?
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But he doesn't respond. He simply stares intently at Syrlya, amber eyes piercing the other's. He searches, looking for even more beneath his insistence.
But all he can feel behind the incessant buzz of alcohol and the painful heartache in his chest is a question, suspended between the words Syrlya imparts to him. He's touched. And if he were sober enough, he'd feel more inclined to ask further. To feel sheepish on the effect he's had on the future generations of sylvari and the future of the Pact.
Not right now, though. ]
But I only want to be an inspiration to you.
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He comes to a complete stop, looking at the other sylvari in his arms. ]
I have a statue?
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... ]
I didn't ask for that.
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Very, very drunk. ]
I love you so much, Syrlya.
[ And he resumes walking. Like it isn't a big deal. ]
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[It's such a struggle to stay awake by this point. Maybe he'll just... rest his eyes for a moment...]
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He'll fight the goddess and creation itself to stay with him.
As they walk, Trahearne's lack of filter keeps him from staying quiet. He speaks of the things he spoke about with Ellis and Mishka--about how putting himself down is only an insult to Syrlya and all of the things they have both accomplished in their lifetimes. How their limited time should be an inspiration, not a roadblock to all the things they want to do together. How even if Trahearne is somehow unable to go back, that Syrlya deserves the joy of the short moments they get to share in peace. Not the regret of yet another missed opportunity.
He speaks of all of his favorite moments of Syrlya. Of when they defended For Trinity. Of when they cleansed Orr. Of how he watched Syrlya bloom into a hero of his own right. Of how much he treasures the scar across his chest.
He rambles on, and on. Long enough to last them the journey to the rural part of the island, where the open farms dot the landscape.
Trahearne moves his arm a bit to wake Syrlya from his slumber; he gazes down with unbridled affection. ]
Syrlya.
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Even as Trahearne tries to stir him, he lets out a disagreeable mumble.] Not now...
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We're home. [ He speaks of Syrlya's house, but the wording comes naturally to him. ]
Is the door unlocked? [ He presses his back against the door, ready to push it open if given the word. ]
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[He fumbles to try and pull it out.]
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I've got them. Hold onto me.
[ Because he's going to shift Syrlya's weight onto one arm to hold him up while he unlocks the door. ]
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The door swings open quickly as he feels Syrlya slipping from him; he readjusts his grip to hold tighter, pulling him closer. Almost there. His arms are getting tired.
He finds his way to the bedroom fairly quickly, susses out Syrlya's side, and gently lays him across the bed. A little sigh escapes his lips; he deserves a rest. So much has burdened him thus far. ]
Stay here. I'll be right back.
[ He leaves the room for a moment, and returns with a full glass of water. He places it on the bedside table as he comes to sit at Syrlya's side. ]
Rest well.
[ He leans in, not a second's hesitation as he places a soft kiss to Syrlya's forehead. ]
You know where to find me if you need me.
[ He pulls the blankets up over his shoulders and quietly makes his way to the door. And in the entranceway, he pauses to glance back at him.
His voice is quiet, not caring if Syrlya hears him or not at this point. ]
I love you. More than you know.
[ And he leaves, pulling the door shut behind him. ]