driftfleet | [muffled spooky scary skeletons playing in the distance]

[Mikleo ducks instinctively, for all the good it does. With a quiet sigh he lifts his hands to fix his tousled hair, glancing over towards the source of the wind- and the voice.]

You too? It's been bothering me since we arrived here.

[He sounds a little annoyed, but not especially. He'd been hoping he and Dezel would find each other here eventually.]

Edited 2016-10-13 08:09 (UTC)

It gets worse the deeper in you go.

[After the whole Sora thing...]

Feels like the whole place is aware of us.

Yeah... I'm not a fan.

[Admittedly it hasn't stopped him from exploring the area, nor from going as deep into the forest as he is now. He figures Dezel's doing it for the same reasons he is, more or less.

Nature is nature, after all.]

Hey, are you busy right now?

[A fluff slug pokes its head out of the collar of his jacket.]

I'm on a date.

[Is... is that a joke...? It must be, because Dezel's sitting down nearby.]

Did you want to talk about something?

[Mikleo stifles a noise that's almost a laugh behind his hand, reaching out to give the slug a little pet. Normalcy is returning to him in fits and starts, and now that he's physically more like his old self again, the rest of his heart and mind is beginning to follow.]

I do. Well, more like I wanted to give you something.

[He reaches off to the side for a travel bag he'd been carting around - the same collection he'd had with him since their arrival, in case he'd gotten stranded somewhere. In this case, though, it's something he'd carried with him in case he ran into certain people.

Before he reaches inside, though, he pauses, glancing back over to Dezel.]

Look, I... you can be honest about it. If you don't like it or want it, if it bothers you, that's fine. Maybe I should have asked first, I don't know.

[Okay, he's probably just stalling at this point. Time to shut up.]

[Dezel will consider that a victory. He's not very good at cheering people up, but Mikleo is his friend. He feels like it's fine to make the occasional attempt at humor-- he won't be judged.]

Give me something...? Why?

[There's another set of little slug ears poking up from the other side of his collar. Yes, he brought both of them.]

I don't have anything for you. [He already gave Mikleo a hat like, way back when.] Is it a holiday?

If it is, it's not one I know about. That isn't the reason, though.

[He's not going to bother providing an actual answer. Dezel will surely understand once he knows what it is. With a quiet exhale, Mikleo tugs the object from the bag and offers it out: it's a hat. More specifically, Dezel's hat.

Upon close inspection, it's clearly not the real thing; the material is too new, the scent too fresh, and there are imperfections in the bangles and chains because of the limitations of what he'd had to work with. But it's also pretty obvious that genuine effort was put into making it the best replica possible in their situation. Mikleo has no idea how much detail Dezel can make out by reading the wind, but he'd really tried, just in case.]

[There's a faint, cool breeze that ticks over Mikleo's hand, soft and curious, until the air stops dead. Dezel's eyes pop open, silver and sightless.]

You found it? ... No... [It's different, he can tell; it smells like Mikleo's hands, like hard water running beneath the earth, like the dark corners of a room. It isn't Lafarga's hat, but it's close enough, and Mikleo's made it with his own needle and thread.

Dezel reaches over and takes it with reverence. He runs his fingertips over every inch of it, testing the shiny hat band and learning the differences, the subtle tilt of the brim. It's a very, very good replica.]

You made this yourself?

[There's more than a trace of awe. He is suitably impressed. And... touched. Deeply so.]

... You didn't have to go through all that trouble. At the end of the day, it's just a thing. I'd rather have you here in one piece than something to remember you by; I'm sure the others feel the same way. [He looks at Mikleo properly this time, flashes him a brief grin so he knows exactly how much he appreciates it. Making this couldn't have been easy, and Mikleo's been so damned sick besides.

He grasps the top and plunks it down on his head. He keeps the brim low enough that his eyes are hidden again. He might be tearing up a little. Just a little. But now no one can really tell, can they?]

[There's a silence that hangs for a moment between them, as Mikleo takes in the sight of Dezel with his hat again. It had been so strange, all this time, to see him without it. And it isn't as exact as Mikleo would like, but his opinion isn't the one that matters. If Dezel is satisfied, then that's enough.]

I know that. That isn't why. And I'm not going to say this is another apology, either- I know you're sick of hearing it.

[In truth, he's sick of saying it, though the sentiment and the regret attached is no less sincere than before. There's still plenty of people he could be apologizing too, but most of them are just strangers who probably don't even know who he is, outside of the monster he'd become. And he doesn't like the thought of admitting to that. It's selfish. He's kind of okay with that.]

It's... more of a thank you, I guess. For staying alive. For not giving up on us. For... helping to save me from that.

[There's a lot they all could have done differently. They'd been so short on time. Without everyone's cooperation, he could have been stranded there, a monster, for as long as dragons live. Maybe forever. He's alive and himself again because people cared enough to set him free.]

It may be just a thing, but it's important to you.

[Dezel lets out a little sigh as Mikleo stumbles over his words. Dezel's always felt like words are kind of optional when it comes to certain things. He doesn't want to be apologized to, it's true. But being thanked doesn't... seem right either.]

I don't want to be thanked for any of that, [he says softly. Sure, maybe the hat's different-- he can feel it now that his fingers are on the brim. But he adores it, so it doesn't matter.] You're--

[He turns away a little.]

... You're my friend. That's all.

[He drops his hand back to the grass.]

... Thanks for the hat.

[Mikleo smiles faintly and leans back, stretching his legs out to dip his feet in the water. He's done saying thank you, too- to Dezel, anyway. It's just nice to have it be done, and to know that Dezel likes it. He'd been sort of worried it would be too presumptuous.

"That's all," he says. As if those three words aren't incredibly heavy and meaningful, coming from him.]

It's from both of us. ...Don't worry, though, Sorey just helped me get the materials. If he'd done any of the sewing, you'd have a dozen needles in your head every time you wore it.

Edited 2016-10-15 03:15 (UTC)

Probably. [But he'd wear it anyway. Dezel is just that kind of person, even if he won't admit it. Mikleo could've made him the most embarrassing, ugly hat in existence, but Dezel would treasure it. People don't give him things. People don't make friends with cursed seraphim.

He rubs at his nose. Mikleo dips his feet into the water, but Dezel feels no such urge. It's cold in there. He does wiggle his fingers a little, though, and lead leaves across the water like tiny boats.]

... You were sick for a while. Are you sure you're good now?

[Some people do. Some people find his company to be enough of a blessing.

Mikleo purses his lips at that, watching the leaves drift around in the water.]

Good enough that I'll probably lose my mind if I stay in that room any longer.

[Dezel makes a noise that's kind of like a chuckle.]

I get it.

[A moment passes, and another. He doesn't always feel the need to punctuate the silence, especially an easy and comfortable one like this.]

I was sick when I first got here, but it wore off after a day or two. [He probably would've killed someone if he'd been stuck for weeks like Mikleo was.]

I didn't know that.

[They hadn't been around Dezel much at the time, admittedly- hadn't wanted to crowd him after the initial meeting. It isn't all that surprising to hear that Dezel might've kept that particular detail to himself.]

To be honest, I'd been getting kind of worried... I didn't even know if I would recover. I'm just grateful to be back on my feet.

[Ack. Yeah, he hadn't...] I didn't want you guys to worry any more than you already were. If it was life-threatening, I would've mentioned it.

Probably.

[He's not sure, now, but whatever.]

I'm thinking we shouldn't make it a habit. For a few reasons.

...No argument here.

[Mikleo shifts, his expression uncomfortable, and quietly hugs his knees close to his chest. He still doesn't like thinking about it. Dying, coming back, having to deal with all of the memories associated with both. All of the memories associated with what he'd become and what he'd done.

Fire, blood, the sensation of wings beneath phantom wings he no longer has.

Power.]

[Dezel notes the change in Mikleo's posture and how he gets silent. He's not a conversationalist; he has no idea what to change the subject to. All he can do is sit here. Uselessly. And try not to think about how this was probably the result of his own blessing.

It's selfish to focus on his pain above everyone else's. He's learning that, and so...

... so, very cautiously, he leans over that extra inch and slips his arm around Mikleo. He keeps his eyes forward, not that it matters much, but it'll give Mikleo some illusion of privacy, probably.]

[Mikleo goes still as he's suddenly hugged, genuinely startled. He's been held and cared for almost endlessly since his return, and he hasn't exactly resented it, but it's been strange and unusual. He can't help feeling that he really must be a mess if everyone has such a great need to coddle him like he's a glass thing about to shatter. He hasn't needed anything like this since he was little. And yeah, he hasn't given them any reason to believe otherwise- his fragile physical state, the hallucinations, the fever, the nightmares... still. Has he really become so pitiful that even Dezel feels the need to hug him?

Almost immediately after the thoughts come to mind, though, he feels ashamed. Dezel doesn't pity him. He's probably the last person who would. After all, he's been through something like this. He'd died in malevolence. He'd been pulled back from it after the fact, revived and remembered. He'd dealt with the aftermath, the words, grief, and sympathies of those who'd lived without him.

It's not pity. This is understanding, in its purest form.

After a long moment he very gently leans his body against Dezel's, buries his face against his knees, and hugs them a little more tightly to himself. This is fine. Maybe it's something they both need.

And if he trembles a little, if his shoulders shake, well, at least no one will see it.]

[Dezel doesn't pity him in the slightest. He sees himself in Mikleo, and he's sure that others have, too. They both sacrificed for the humans they chose-- and when a seraph chooses a human, it means everything. He can feel Mikleo's trembling and he knows he was there once-- maybe more than once. When he woke up and realized he was alive but cut off from the world, alive and dead at the same time...

He holds the water seraph a little tighter, curling about him with a warm summer wind. He thinks Mikleo might be close to crying. He reaches up with his other hand and gently slips the hat off his head only to plunk it down on Mikleo's, brim tilted downward to hide the boy's face.]

[He hadn't wanted to cry. Had been fighting it, in fact; there's no need to burden Dezel with that, when he's already doing so much. The whole point of this had been to show his gratitude to the other seraph- not just for what happened, because more thanks and apologies were unwanted, but for being a friend, for caring. This was supposed to be a gift.

But then Dezel had to go and do that, and Mikleo knows what the hat means to him. Even if it's just a replica, he'd seen the look on Dezel's face when he'd received it. It's so much more than that.

Shifting one hand very slightly, Mikleo touches the brim with tremulous fingers, holding it in place. It's too big for him, and the material is soft and warm against his hair. Too big... which means it's just big enough to hide the tears he can't hold back anymore.

Maybe he doesn't deserve this after what happened, but he'll sure as hell take it.]

[muffled spooky scary skeletons playing in the distance]

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