maskormenace | xenologue 3 || voice

So the day has worn on...and on. And the sky shows no sign of incoming terrors from where I'm standing. Will this be one of those long lapses I've heard tell of?

Whatever was done was enough, friends and imPorts. I'm grateful to those who found a way...

[a beat.

exhale.]

Forgive me. I wish to ask of things touched upon again and again -- much more than the span of days we've just endured. I've already read so much about the past here that I may go cross-eyed to scour any further, and...and there's...something to be said of hearing truths from first-hand sources.

Should you be willing, please tell me: how long did it take you to know for certain your friend or loved one has left-- returned, as it were. What did you do? How many days did it take you to find it in you to be certain?

...How did you know they had forgotten, too? All of this, good and ill. [with an empty laugh in her voice:] There's a lot to be said about fools who believe anything in life is certain, of course, but all the same... A fool like me can at least do her part to ask.

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Hey. [He puts on a smile at the sight of Lucina, stepping in and still feeling like something's so out of place. There's no Odin to fill the space and even the walls feel empty without him - he tries to keep his smile up despite it, holding food up and out of the way as he greets the big lug duo with a laugh.]

Hey, hey - hey to you guys too... [Rootbeer trots around the more massive dogs with an air of dominance despite her stature, and Peter has no doubts she's the Queen Bee somehow. He sets down the bags in his hands so he can kneel down and dish out dog love.]

Brought - ahah, whoa. [Peter gets minorly jumped by the dogs, falling back onto his ass.] I brought some food, hope it's good? I kind of went in to the store with no idea what I was doing and left the same way. But with a buncha pretzels.

Oh--Lon-- [she lets out an exasperated sigh as dogs just bully their way over because that's just what they do, her mouth quirking. she'll collect those bags before any nosy noses can break away from Peter, and then get out of the way of tails smacking at her legs.]

I'm sure it'll be just fine. Let's have us a look when these animals here decide you're allowed to do anything else.

[Peter laughs but agrees, giving the dogs some loving pets before climbing back up to his feet - it's a struggle, but he manages.]

Alright, alright. Jeez, they're needy. Guess they - ah, guess they miss their dad.

You'll find this a place full of that sentiment, I'm afraid. [her smile's a bit strained at that. once she's sure he's able to hold his own among this swarm of needy dogs, she heads off to the kitchen area to set the bags down and start unbagging things.]

What...did you bring, by the way? Will we have to prepare anything?

Mm, lasagna - you had that yet? And some pretzels. Not... not exactly the sanest pairing but. [He shrugs. He shopped on an empty stomach.]

Both are ready to eat, still warm in fact. I ate like four pretzels on the way here, too.

I don't think I have, no...but I trust your judgment. [but she won't break into it quite yet, instead getting flatware out for three.]

Leo will probably not join us, I'm afraid. But let's set aside some for him all the same, alright?

That's cool, there's... a lot. [And despite his usual appetite, Peter doubts he'll get through more than a helping.

He stands around, trying to make himself useful - but ends up just taking out another pretzel and tearing off a piece for each dog in arm's reach. Peter focuses on this, a frown appearing on his brow as he glances up to an empty doorway. This is just so strange.] It's... really weird to be here and know he's not going to show up, y'know? I expect to hear him start yelling at any moment.

...

[with her back turned, she's spared a moment away from forcing a serener, more composed expression -- allowing herself to wince and quickly gather herself back up. she refocuses herself to setting plates down with care, hands hovering aimlessly until she remembers which drawer utensils are stored in and sets to that. by then, she can push a crooked smile on her face and glance back his way.]

It is, yes. But I'm told that...the odds are still good that such a thing may very well still happen. [she hesitates, a flicker of fear coming and going in an instant -- too much of one in the face of a speedster.]

That's...true, isn't it?

Well. [This is the part he hates, the part where he wants to be optimistic but life's kicked him enough to know better. He keeps feeding little bits of pretzel to the dogs, his appetite dropping to a phenomenal low, eyes trained on paws dancing against the floor for a long period of time - how does he answer this? With the brutal honesty he's been giving himself, as not to get his hopes up? Or with something of a gentler care, for Lucina's sake. It's weird, but he thinks she's more deserving of anything but false promises.]

I don't know if they're good odds, but there's a chance. People come and go, usually you know by a month - that's what I've heard? When, when... my ex-girlfriend here disappeared, she came back a month or so later. But she was different, didn't remember anything. Anyone. So that's always a possibility.

[Peter talks, and Lucina takes to cutting up portions, hardly minding how odd the dish actually looks. it's like a big, globby stack of...stuff. her sense of aesthetics is broken, so this hardly fazes her.

besides, her mind's more on his words than on the meal. she feels a sting of guilt as he mentions a former lover and their implied fate. it stops her, gently setting utensils down to turn his way.]

...I'm so sorry, Peter. This place is...cruel in a lot of ways I'm only just beginning to learn. I'm sorry it must be endured.

I'm sorry too. I don't - I don't mean to say that he won't be back. But I just, I don't know?

[He glances up at her.] I haven't had a lot of luck with people porting out on me. But maybe it'll be different this time.

You won't be foolish for hoping. [her mouth tries at a soft, small smile.] Or rather...if it does make you a fool, then it makes me one, as well. And I don't mind the company.

Here's to hoping that's not the case, then.

[And here's to hoping that should he return, he's just as he left.] Fingers crossed and everything.

[she nods and makes a soft, agreeable sound. she's...trying to push herself to be more outwardly optimistic, but it's really not her way. Owain, Cynthia, Inigo...she's been surrounded by types more outspoken like that -- others who help sustain her own inner spark for hope. it's...really hard to be without.

but for Peter's sake? for Leo's sake, too...she has to try her best. with that in mind, she pushes herself to move forward, forcing a lighter note to her voice as she offers a plate of food to Peter: the...traditional "pretzel-covered lasagna," as purchased, right?]

Have a seat wherever you like, Peter. I'll be back shortly; I need to set out a plate for Leo upstairs.

[If there's something unconventional about how she serves his food, Peter doesn't seem to notice. He takes the plate with his eyes dropping down to it with a bit of renewed wolfish hunger. He'll settle into a seat as instructed, fiddling with silverware between his fingers before nodding back at her.]

Take your time. I'll be here.

[she doesn't expect a response, but it doesn't stop her from feeling a wave of sadness when her knocks go unanswered. with a sigh, she sets the plate on the card table set up near the door. as long as he eats eventually, it's...fine, right? she's doing enough, right?

gods, she doesn't know. caring for Leo is what Odin does; she's hardly keen enough to know his liege lord's needs well enough to herself.

unencumbered, she vaults the railing and floats back down to the kitchen floor, joining Peter at table, giving Lon'qu a little pat along the way. with just a soft sound, she takes to her plate with a curious sniff and a bite.]

Huh-- It's pretty good. [nodding.] You made a good choice, Peter.

xenologue 3 || voice

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