(Untitled)

[politestpirate]

There were threats of bodily harm, so thus

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[futures_of_ash]

Rachel probably isn't one of them. Doesn't stop her letting her braided hair dangled from the rafters, followed by an arm that pokes the top of his head gently. "You alright?"

[futures_of_ash]

"No, never" the chuckling ended abruptly. "Ari is working to find her soul. I'm...I'm working on finding someone to care for her"

[politestpirate]

Wellard blinks, watching her carefully.

"Ari- Mister Arithon?" There is a sigh of relief, and Wellard rubs the bridge of his nose.

"That... that can be done?"

[futures_of_ash]

There's shadows in Rachel's eyes, half glimpsed menal shards that would no doubt push upon sanity to view fully.

"Yes. And Yes." by rights Rachel should be helping with that...feeding her brother trength and ability...but she can't be i the same room as Tool. She knows that much.

[politestpirate]

Wellard nods at the answers, and then keeps quiet. This is the same feeling when you have realized you have walked out on thin ice, and the trip back is just as dangerous as moving forwards.

[futures_of_ash]

Rachel closed her eyes again, then stood carefully "I'm sorry, I truly am. I didn't mean to bother you...Tool...was just one of the most terrifying things in my world for a long time."

"...thank you for caring about her."

[politestpirate]

("Another twenty-")

"I- I am sorry for that, Miss Rachel." Quietly, watching her. Not apologizing for the caring, but that does not need an apology, nor would she expect one.

The apology and sympathy are for the terror.

[futures_of_ash]

Keep count or it starts over

She stetches slowly, more as an excuse to buy herself more time than anything else. And that tension in her body speaks volumes. Years layered upon years of pain and suffering, born because it had to be. Shattering and the sheer strength of will to work through it now.

Stretching done she opens her eyes once more to meet his gaze "I live" she noted, words empty of any fear or anger now.

[politestpirate]

(The smell of gunpowder. "Brave lad.")

I don't.

Wellard watches her, quietly.

[futures_of_ash]

She reached out, hesitantly, to trace warm fingers down his face "I'm sorry"

[politestpirate]

Wellard twitches back. Reflex, reaction, and as soon as he realizes, he drops his eyes. There is a panicked shake of his head.

"'salright, Miss Rachel."

[futures_of_ash]

And he rhand drops to her ide. She even takes a step back, giving him more space. She's...used to people flinching away from her. There's very few that trust her enough to offer comfort, and be comforted in turn.

"No, but it will be" she sighed, the words leaving a taste of sorrow like rain on the tongue.

[politestpirate]

It was not her, it was just.... everything. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, hands clenched at his sides.

"Perhaps."

[futures_of_ash]

Yes, and everything cannot be made better by being hugged by a still strange telepath. Much as they perhaps both need one.

As a parting gift she leaves im the gentle feel of a sea wind just after a storm, fresh and clean, the scent of sat and frredom.

Perhaps it helps.

Perhaps not.

She doesn't know, as she's headed for the lake.

[politestpirate]

Need, yes.

Admit to this, just yet? No, at least on Wellard's part.

Many things need admitting to, before they can be worked on fixing.