strangetrip | [GP/EP] Check-in Day

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[GP/EP] Check-in Day

It was a musical day at the Madonna Inn, both inside and out. Curnen had taken her usual place up on the roof and was singing charms to the sky to keep any wanderers from getting lost (though that part of it was not immediately obvious). Unrelated to that, Sunny was on the dance floor in the bar, summoning songs of her own with her knife to keep her moving before she went to do her shift at the library later. It was one of those days where if she thought about it too hard she’d start thinking about that empty bed in her shitty room and the person she most wanted to be there.

This of course eventually seeped into her magic. She knew better. Maybe she’d even wanted that to happen.

Because just once, between different pop hits and dance beats came a rather unexpected French love song. She sighed and rolled her eyes, but the exasperation didn’t last. Before the lyrics started up she was waltzing. By herself and not caring how it might have looked. And for those three and a half minutes, she dared let herself hope for the slimmest chance that Orlu might come through that door.

She didn’t let herself hope too hard, though. There was admitting to feeling things and there was setting yourself up for certain disappointment. She’d lived too long with disappointment to do that to herself.

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It took Corbie a moment to realize Mildmay was there, and even then the realization came to her slowly. She had been so intent on praying that his quiet presence took a while for her to feel.

Corbie opened her eyes and looked at him, not raising her head from the table. There was never any point lying to him, unless she was deliberately saying 'I'm fine' as an indirect 'I don't want to talk about it.' She didn't try. "Is this what exile felt like?" she asked softly.

Edited 2018-05-16 01:58 (UTC)

Oh. The feel of Mildmay's quiet changed, from steady and solid presence to considering her question. After a long moment, he nodded slightly. "Yeah."

Part of him wanted to pull in her into his lap, tell her it wasn't so bad here. But he wasn't gonna lie, and right then, it was just that bad for her. He did smooth a hand over her hair, tuck her closer to his side with an arm around her shoulders. "'Cept keeping Felix alive and fed took way more work."

The comment startled a little laugh out of Corbie, though it did carry the wavering quality of a suppressed sob. She sat up so she could tuck herself against him properly, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I didn't think... even with all the weird shit here, I didn't really think I'd be here so long."

No. She wouldn't have. It was hard to wrap your head around something like that. This place was too weird to believe you were really truly stuck for good. Or maybe Mildmay just couldn't let go of the idea he'd get back to Felix sometime before his brother got himself into more trouble he couldn't magic his way outta.

"That part's different," he told her, quiet, but clear as he could make it, 'cause focusing not slurring so much meant he didn't have to feel too hard about what he was saying. "Ain't never been no going home for me, not outta exile." He wasn't the one officially exiled, that was Felix, but Felix had always had hope of maybe someday making amends or them needing something only he could do and going back. If Mildmay ever went back to the Lower City, he'd wind up dead, sooner than not. And now the obligation d'âme was off him, the hocuses up to the Mirador'd wanna execute him too, not that that was ever fucking home.

Which she'd known, and Corbie immediately felt guilty for even bringing it up. Corbie's chin wobbled and she felt hot tears spilling down her face. "Oh, Mildmay, I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"Don't do that now," he told her, gentle like most people never imagined The Fox could be. "Meant that made it easier on me." There wasn't no use in hoping he could go home, when he knew he couldn't. No matter what fucked up ideas Felix had about it. Corbie could have hope, and a huge heart to hold it. Course it would be harder on her, wanting to go home, believing she maybe could, and it still not happening.

"Besides, exile meant we met you. Wouldn't change that."

Corbie blinked. She'd realized this before of course, that she would never have known them without that happening, but it had always been a bit of a guilty sentiment that she'd tried to keep tucked away. After all, it hadn't been her misfortune that had brought them together, at least not as directly.

She stared at him wide-eyed for a moment. And then she ventured a tiny smile. "Thanks."

Mildmay didn't smile back, because he didn't smile. But something in him felt lighter getting a tiny smile from Corbie when she was so down. He wiped a drying tear track from her cheek with a thumb. "You eat today?" He couldn't fix what was wrong, but he could do the little things to take care of her. And Corbie was easier than Felix, any day of the decad.

Corbie very nearly opened her mouth to lie to him. It was late enough in the day that she could absolutely--in theory--get away with saying she'd eaten breakfast at least and the sandwich that was mocking her she'd just not touched yet. But she thought better of it. She lowered her eyes and shook her head, looking more than a little like a guilty child.

He wasn't gonna fuss. Saints knew there'd been a time when he didn't do much eating neither. And Felix could get down right scrawny without Mildmay to remind him he couldn't live on books and air.

"I c'n ask Emma to make you something. Soup?" Mildmay wasn't use for much around here, but he couldn't just sit on his ass all day either, so he'd been helping out some in the kitchen, washing dishes, peeling potatoes, grunt work. He liked Emma. She was kind, but quiet and didn't mind if he didn't talk. She never pointed out the stool that stayed tucked under one of the counters, or commented the times he used it 'steada standing for too long.

There was something about being sad that made chewing into work, and while Corbie felt a little silly about it, she found herself nodding.

She smiled faintly, though this one was just self-deprecating, even sad. "Gran'd be ashamed of me."

Mildmay couldn't say one way or the other about Corbie's gran. Felix had had a few thoughts on the woman, not always friendly, but Felix wasn't always friendly toward anybody... except Corbie herself. But Mildmay didn't have to think to know how to respond to that, "Felix wouldn't."

He kissed her temple and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. "You okay for me running to the kitchen?"

Corbie snorted softly. "Course he wouldn't. Felix forgets to eat just 'cause." It was true, though.

The kiss got a flicker of a smile out of her. "Yeah. I'm okay."

Trusting Corbie to say if she needed him to stay a little longer first, Mildmay took her at her word and slipped silently but for the quiet tap of Jashuki to the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later with a couple of bowls of what Emma'd called egg drop soup, and since he'd watched her drizzle egg into the hot broth, he understood why. It was just what it said it was.

He set own steaming bowl in front of Corbie, having been judging her state on his slow walk across the room. The second bowl was for himself, not that he needed to eat, but it was usually easier to eat when you didn't much feel like it, if you weren't eating alone.

Corbie had never seen anything like this before. It was almost broth, except... she wasn't sure what that was floating in it, honestly. But it smelled good, which was sign enough to her to go for it. She didn't bother with a spoon, picking up the bowl with her hands and sipping directly from it. Only then--with a visible realization--did she understand the mystery stuff was egg.

Interesting.

It was both familiar and not, and somewhere between the familiarity and Corbie's innate curiosity and her body's need for food even when her head told her she didn't feel like eating, the soup slowly went down.

Mildmay ate more slowly, enjoying the soup while watching Corbie without being obvious he was watching. Felix could get caught up in himself he didn't notice Mildmay hovering – or he could fly off the handle for it when Mildmay was barely doing anything – but Corbie could get self-conscious about it before then, and he didn't want that. She was getting the soup down at least, that was good.

Corbie guessed, of course, but she didn't mind because she knew she'd do the same. And in any case, her attention was focused mostly on fuck you, you can last a day on air but it's a bad idea. She disappointed her grandmother's memory enough with the magic thing, she could at least do things that made complete sense to do.

"How are you doing?" she asked quietly. It was a question she asked implicitly in a number of ways, but never directly. She spent a lot of her free time with him because of course she did. Still she wondered. Was he making friends, was he at least adjusting? The only thing it didn't imply was whether or not he missed Felix, because they both already knew the answer to that was 'yes' and 'even more than she did.'

Corbie had a better idea how Mildmay was doing than anybody else here. She didn't usually ask direct like that, though. "M'okay," he said, and then took another spoonful of soup.

"Been worse places'n this."

Corbie pulled a face at that, which she tried to hide by sipping more soup. "Been better places, too. I hope," she added, trying to turn the inquiry into gentle teasing.

Esmer hadn't been bad, and Felix had been mostly happy, and sane. Bernatha was supposed to be nice, but Mildmay'd spent most of the time there trying not to die, and he mighta made a joke about it, but Corbie was homesick enough already. Not gonna remind her of home now.

"Never." Voice dry, but green eyes crinkling a little at the corners to tease back at her.

She really should have expected that. As it was, Corbie had to put down her bowl for a moment because she'd started to giggle and that would lead to soup going down the wrong way real quick.

Two could play at that, though. "Prettier, then," she challenged.

Edited 2018-06-02 05:13 (UTC)

Mildmay'd be fucked if he'd say he liked his time in Troia, but the garden had been pretty. And Grimglass had a kinda... Felix'd probably know the word he was looking for, but it was pretty, in its way. Min-Terris-of-Pharoahlight was just flat out pretty, looking like some fancy cake as much as a cathedral. An none of 'em looking like Felix's closet exploded all over some whorehouse.

"Depends on the view," he said, watching her try to smother her giggles, "but yeah, okay."

"More exciting, too, I'd bet," Corbie said as she picked up her bowl again. Whether or not it was good manners, sometimes you just did what came easy. Sometimes she still boggled at the idea that there could be so few people in one place. She knew that at home there were farm communities that were this size, but she'd never seen any of them herself.

Exciting weren't always a good thing. Least in Mildmay's experience.

"Been listening to Felix's whoppers 'bout life in the MIrador?" he joked, still as flat and dry as ever, but joking for him. Thing was, it probably was exciting, if you were a hocus, or one like Felix, who lived on debates and drama and in-fighting and being the most fashionable person ever.

"Oh, fine, will less boring do, then?" Corbie teased back. Felix of course had told her some about the Mirador, but it mostly had to do with the magic, not the social scene. After he'd refused to teach her not to talk like a low class jezebel, she'd largely left the whole thing alone. It made him think of Malkar, and whether or not Felix would ever admit to sadness or fear, it made him too sad and scared for her to try.

[GP/EP] Check-in Day

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