Scene Archives

She has a favorite pool, though she doesn’t remember until she gets there. It’s smallish, enough that strangers aren’t likely to invite themselves if it’s empty, and it’s tucked towards the back corner, low-lit and scalding. She slides into the water and it’s like–well, not quite like coming home, but like getting a bath she had previously needed very much.

‘s steps are light, but make a rhythmic approach, and you can sense the turns he makes- around a screen, dodging another pool, taking a tight corner…

: “(Soap, scrub, scrub, rinse, bub-ble bath…)” Lightly humming… singing?

rounds the corner, towel to the waist, one arm propping up a small wooden bucket, filled with a few products, combs, a washcloth. “Evening greeting, Salme. Still all a-tangle?”

heard him coming, and feels like she can almost place the tune, but can’t quite. “I got the worst of it out, but I could still use a hand if you’re willing, Sinitöyhtönärhi.”

grins, leaning his head back a little. “Oh my. What a blessed name. Does it have a translation?”

smiles back. “Yes.”

seems no less delighted by this one-word answer. “Shuffle forward, sweet sparrow.”

‘s smile widens, a little less sly and a little more fond. She shuffles forward. “Are you staying out of the water then?”

: “Of course not.” He steps forward, a step in, another step in, towel off, sitting down, settling in. A shimmer of the light as he draws a long-toothed comb from the bucket at the edge of the pool.

: “So you don’t melt. Good to know.” She looks at the edge of the comb and wonders what tricks he has up his sleeve this time. Not that he has sleeves, this moment. “Maybe just a Sininärhi right now, then,” says, mostly to herself.

: “Be careful that you don’t melt.” The water makes soft ripples as he gathers Salme’s voluminous unshackled hair, regrouping and gathering, and gathering… he starts at the edges, broadly running the comb through the ends, taking care not to tug at any knots, instead gently working around and through them.

: “Or feel free to.”

relaxes into his hands. It’s been–a long time, since someone did this for her. She remembers hands, gentle, careful, talented, though much older than his plaiting her hair. She squeezes her eyes shut, dispells the memory, lets herself relax. “You really are very … mm, oh, that’s nice.”

gathers her strength and her braincells and says, “Earlier, when you were looking out the window at the Centrelight, you were trying to do something. What was it?”

has worked through the rough edges, and the middle has seemingly ‘neccessary’ knots, old remnants of braids still clinging to yesterday. He gathers a section at a time, draping across his forearm, working them out directly with gentle rubbing.

: “Immediately, I thought of the flourishing gnosis, of how you said it turns to overgrowth and to destruction.”

: “I was thinking of some way to… not ‘reverse’ it, but, moderate it.”

: “If not an immediate fix, maybe something that could slow it while we figured out something else.”

: “Of course… the truth ended up being something that must be… rotated, more.”

can’t raise an eyebrow at him, or at least not where he can see, so she just asks, “rotated?”

: “Ah- considered. Examined. Understood.”

: “Cycles, the role of the light, the hunger that tears… there is a thoroughline that can be written that solves all. I just tried a little prematurely.”

laughs, leaning further back into his hands. “You? Trying something prematurely?” and then, after a pause. “So your discussion with the lightdrinkers was fruitful, even if more rotation is required?”

: “They’re interesting! We understood each other, got along on a first name basis.” He reaches her scalp, and instead of going for sweeping brush strokes, he reaches up to gently scratch and scrub the roots, starting at the nape of her neck, working his way up, and around, and over.

: “They’re possibly more important than I thought. I don’t mean that I thought them unimportant, just… feels like they’re almost an organ themselves, of Almachadta.”

is complete putty in the Awoken’s hands, which would be embarrassing but it is too nice to feel embarrassed here. She hums at that observation, tries to think if that observation feels right or not.

: “Yes. That–sounds right. Everything is an organ of Almachadta in a sense, but the lightdrinkers more than most.”

hums again and adds, “I think–it would be good, if we could do something to stave off whatever is happening. I think the cure lies elsewhere, but I won’t be sure until we can speak to everyone. Archie and Aurelius,” again, here she makes a face like she’s tasted something unpleasant, “especially. Unua perhaps.”

snickers under his breath, because even if he couldn’t see her expression, it came through enough on the tense ripple along the neck.

: “You’ve got knots on more than your hair,” he says, kneading just below the neck, along her clavicle.

should probably object, but she lets him. “A pity you don’t have your memories. I’m sure you have myriad conquests to your name.”

: “I can always make new ones.”

: “You’re both still reeling from then, too.”

: “Then?”

: “The little back and forth between you and Aury.”

: “I’m pretty sure that’s what this–” There’s a thumb at the bottom of her right shoulderblade, where too much muscle is bound together “-is, at least.”

suddenly she is embarrassed. “I don’t like being treated like a fool. And I don’t see what he’d be bothered by. He seemed smugly in control like always.” The Awoken and probably feel a couple muscles jump in her back at this.

: “To turn the chessboard around-” somehow, this makes sense, even if ‘chess’ doesn’t parse, “-he was trying everything he could think of to keep you from storming off or initiating a Rite.”

: “And then, finally, to summon forth the song of himself, and prostrate himself before you…”

: “What a desperate, panicked maneuver.”

: “And what do you make of that?”

thinks, personally, that he would’ve dealt with a rite better.

: “Well…”

: “It means he’s been bested by two women, at least.”

laughs then, loud enough that it borders on disruptive. “I want to meet that Scorpion Queen of his. Whether to congratulate her or to fight her for what she did I haven’t yet decided.”

: “See? We’re so back.” On the back, on both sides along the spine, massaging strokes up along the stress, gentle hand strokes through the hair back down.

: “And what about you? You were a passive observer for much of that. How are you faring? Or is Aury not one of your planned conquests?”

: “Oh, I’m definitely a hero, but I wasn’t going to die a hero getting in the middle of that.”

: “Maybe if a Rite did break out, but.”

laughs again, but gently, carefully pulls away, turning to cage him against the edge of the pool with her arms. “I think you’re dodging the question, Sinitöyhtönärhi.” It’s fortunately that he’s only a bit taller than her, otherwise that wouldn’t work. “What’s going on in that head of yours? What do you want? What do you intend?”

smirks in the way that one does when fate bears down upon them. “It’s less planned than you think, and more wants than anyone suspects.” ⁂

: “In the enveloping darkness, of sunless paths and naked, unseen possibility, I am an incredibly selfish person, sweet sparrow.” ⁂

: “You are stronger than you believe your emotions bare. But… it is also fine, to have choices made for you.” ⁂

: “He burns the flourishing urge, struggles against it, but it doesn’t have to be one.” ⁂

: “Would you both like to find out?” 🙧

: “What exactly do you mean?” she asks, though she doesn’t move.

leans forward into the arm cage. “I adore you both, desire you both, and want us to resolve, escalate, and perptuate this tension, in bed.”

still doesn’t move. She lets him lean in, she meets his eyes, and hers are pale brown, almost yellow, and she says–“then yes, I would like to find out. Though I doubt your Aavikkokettu is as interested in me as you seem to think.”

: “Hm.” He reaches behind her, gathering up hair, bunched up into a not-too-tight fist, right at the base of the skull. “Walk bravely among the untold path.”

She relaxes into his touch. She’d let him–she relaxes. “But we must sing regardless, hmm, little bluejay?” and she twists her head, not much, but just enough to kiss him on the wrist, right where his pulse-point is.

: “We must sing, we must joy, we must live.” and he leans down, more than enough, to kiss her on the neck, right where all the melting nerves and vulnerable blood tubing are conveninently bunched together.

lets him, because she has decided to let him. And if he hurts her with that, well. She has buried the vengeful part of her, but not yet succeeded in snuffing it out. “You know, I had mostly just been trying to ask if you were okay after I showed you that–vision,” she says, amused.

: “Oh ho, it feels good to be cared for,” he coos, playfully.

does not bite and draw blood, even for that there’s steps, y’know.

: “Your courage in revealing it was remarkable. To two planar outsiders, even.”

splashes a bit of water at him. “You can just say stupid you know. Impulsive, even.” Now (now!) she does blush.

sniggers. “I could, but I won’t. You care so deeply, and each ignorant step we took before, saying we would save everyone and Almachada… it must have weighed extra heavily, then.”

: “And then to reveal it to us…” He looks away, and then back at her, fluttering his eyes.

: “That was an act of deep, personal passion, if I’ve ever seen one.”

is blushing harder, wondering what is wrong with her that this is what makes her feel weak-kneed and vulnerable, even if the eye-flutter is a little much. “I just wanted you to understand. And it still didn’t quite … work.” ⁂

: “As for caring, or passion I … well, agree to disagree” 🙧

‘s pulse jumps, eyes widen, and his pupils focus, as though he just witnessed something incredibly cute.

: “And you? Are you okay?”

shrugs one shoulder. “Better. I spoke with Wolf and … it helped. He helped.” And then she looks at him, and says, “you helped too, Sininen. Very much so. The last time someone helped me with my hair I–” she furrows her brow. “I was very young.”

loosens a thumb on his hair-grip to gently stroke the side of her head, and brings her in closer with an arm around her waist, deeply embracing.

leans into it, leans into him, and lets her head rest on his shoulder. In a moment, she’ll ask him to work on the knots in her lower back, but for now, this is everything she could have asked for.