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amourete-blog1 · 7 years

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(( one mustn’t tell lies, felide

tagging: @hereticalsym69ls

context: these two expo posts [link one] [link two] in which felide meets up with an old friend and continues to make bad decisions.

aberrantcadenza Washing your hair is A Task. It always is, you've just got too damn much of it. You wash off any leftover dirt and medicinal salve, wipe the scent of sweat and gunpowder from your skin, get clean and dry off as well as you can.

When you go downstairs to sit with Xanthe, your hair is held in a towel - as much as you can fit, anyway - and you're in one of Xanthe's old shirts and a pair of shorts, with a hole under the waistband for your tail.

"Nadaya went home?" You sit on the couch, and start to comb through the wet black mass. He was here when you got back... He must have been waiting for you. "I hope you two had a nice time?"

hereticalsym69ls You see her when she comes to join you and smile. Mostly because you're glad to see her back, but her wearing one of your shirts doesn't hurt.

"Yeah, shortly after you got back." You scoot closer to her so you can give her a kiss. "Yeah, we did. I think he probably needed the downtime too."

Being a notorious space pirate who is also involved in another timeline's rebellion sometimes can be very time consuming and stressful, as it turns out. Also all this other stuff happening in the past week.

"What about you?"

aberrantcadenza You purr and kiss him several times in succession, pausing in your brushing to cup his cheeks in your hands.

"I had fun! Lil and I went to the Liternian harvest festival. There were *so* many trolls there Xanthe... and aliens!! Did you know they have aliens there? And not just humans!"

You brush and brush and brush... "It was nice, honestly. It was nice being inside with you two too, but it was equally nice to stretch my legs and do something. Lil was left alone tonight..." You reach a particularly stubborn knot, and make a face while you try to pick it apart. "Nerd decided he'd try to say he didn't want help. I kind of forced him into it, but he seems better now."

hereticalsym69ls "I knew that they were there, though I didn't ever really be around them much." To be fair, you didn't pay the others much mind when you were with Lil on Liternia prior. Oops.

You feel a bit bad when she says Lil was on his own before she went to see him. It's good she went for him, but you acutely remember you haven't spent time with him in a while. You need to fix that.

You start to help her with her hair, reaching over to gently work out any knots you find with your fingers.

"He's like that constantly, isn't he? It's a good thing you went or he might've died from loneliness like hop beasts apparently do."

aberrantcadenza "God, do they?" You laugh, nuzzling him, which probably just makes his job harder. "That's so weird. I think the peaceful life just isn't for any of us. He needs people around all the time, all of us want to help others, we all want to travel..."

Your fingers slip through your hair when a knot comes undone, and your hand hits one of your fresh bruises before you can stop it. You cringe.

"Liternia is a nice place. Maybe we could adventure there sometime? Lil, you, me... Maybe Kan?"

hereticalsym69ls "I've never tested it, it's only what I've heard." You don't mind the nuzzles. The nuzzles are always welcome, no matter how difficult any task becomes because of them. "Sounds like we should take regular trips, then. I've done Greenwater with Lil before... It's pretty doable in a comfortable fashion. Fortunately we don't have to worry about being outlaws there."

You'd be more than happy for a trip with your life mates. The less gracious part of you would rather Kan didn't come, but the less assholeish part of you knows excluding him would be a dick move. Besides, you're supposed to be working on a friendship with Kan. The can be one of those things that helps with that.

That aside, Felide's cringe didn't escape your notice. Your hands leave her hair and you rest one lightly where she'd knocked herself. "Did you get hurt?"

aberrantcadenza "I fell." It's not *exactly* a lie. That is how that particular one happened... you just don't include context.

His touch is gentle. It doesn't hurt, but it's warm and you find it comforting. You bump foreheads with him. "It's just a bruise. I've already treated it, I'll be okay."

hereticalsym69ls You raise an eyebrow to her.

"If there's anything else, you know I'm going to find out. Right?"

She would have to make you keep your hands off her entirely to hide such things from you.

aberrantcadenza Oh boy. That look... You do not like that look. You mimic his expression, and go for a joke to lighten the air. "You're in the mood tonight? That's rare."

hereticalsym69ls "Oh?" A pretty weak deflection, if you ever saw one. "Well if I am I suppose that means I need to take that shirt off you, don't I?"

You can play this game and call her bluff. You're sure of it.

aberrantcadenza "Where mom could find us?" You mock surprise. "So scandalous..." You actually don't think she's coming home tonight. She's been hanging out with Dilwyn a lot. *However,* you don't feel a need to mention that specific detail right now, when its absence helps you continue your escape plan.

hereticalsym69ls "Could doesn't mean will. I thought you liked to be adventurous?" You highly doubt this will lead anywhere except Felide either telling you the truth or bailing entirely.

aberrantcadenza Uh-oh. Change of tactics!! You flick him in the temple. "You're so stubborn. Will you help me put this in a braid, or at least start it?"

hereticalsym69ls And you nip the tip of her ear. "It takes one to know one!"

You do help her with braiding her hair though. Not that it'll stop your investigation into the possible presence of additional injuries.

aberrantcadenza You squeak when he bites you, which quickly dissolves into a laugh. "Babe, I was joking, please!! Not to say I wouldn't if you wanted to, but!!"

Speaking of which, there's a cut on her neck, which was carefully covered and sealed... but being close enough to braid her hair might let him discover it.

hereticalsym69ls "I knew it! I completely knew it." You half called her bluff already. When you see the cut on her neck, you think you're about to get the rest.

"Hm. Seems that 'fall' was more perilous than you wanted to tell me."

aberrantcadenza "What, you've never seen a sharp rock on the ground before?" It's weak and you know it. Flimsy.

You sit on your hands. "Maybe I didn't want to tell you because I knew you'd worry." Also not a lie. Closer to the truth than before, anyway.

hereticalsym69ls "Must've been a really sharp and precise rock not to leave scrapes anywhere."

You brush your fingers through her hair. "Of course I'll worry. I know there's no way you'll never get hurt doing anything, I know you're the type to go do dangerous things. I don't pretend I can completely talk you out of it. But if you tell me when you're hurt, at least I can try to help you with it."

aberrantcadenza Whiiiine. He's making your heart hurt and now you aren't even sure you want to do this anymore. You *want* to tell him everything and never go back and it's killing you.

Instead you just sigh, your shoulders slumping. "... Yeah. There's more. I took care of it already, but I'll show you."

hereticalsym69ls And you're not really even trying! This is some skill you have, making others feel bad for stuff.

"Okay... I'm glad they're taken care of already, but this means I know what not to make worse for you."

aberrantcadenza Too much power for any one troll.

"Most of it's under my shirt... your shirt. There's not *too* much." You've probably got a couple bruises on your back that you can't feel yet. You roll up one sleeve to show him a cut. "All pretty minor, and again, taken care of. I didn't even get stabbed this time!"

hereticalsym69ls You get to take a look at that cut, but get distracted about her mentioning stabbing. To which you look right at her.

"How pissed off did you make that rock for avoiding getting stabbed to be mentioned?"

aberrantcadenza "Uh."

Shit.

"... The rock has anger management issues."

hereticalsym69ls "Oh, and here I thought you insulted it horribly or something." You sit back and fold your arms.

aberrantcadenza "Well I did, but instead of resorting to clawnflict resolution, it decided to get aggressive - which I know I myself struggle with, so I can empawthize." Shit shit shit shit sh

"It may have been several sharp rocks."

hereticalsym69ls "Ah, so a gang of rocks with anger management issues. Doesn't sound like the kind of rocks to go around insulting."

Something is very much up here. You just know it.

aberrantcadenza "I thought it was friendly banter!"

Something? Up? Ridiculous. Unfathomable. You laugh and it sounds more nervous than you intended.

"I mean to say I didn't get stabbed by the rock. Which is good. It would have sucked if I fell onto a rock and got stabbed by it, instead of getting scraped and bruised, right?"

hereticalsym69ls "Well yeah, there's that. Not seen a lot of scrapes though. You'd tell me if you got in bad with the local sharp rocks mafia, right?"

aberrantcadenza "Oh yeah." You grin. "You'd be the first to know, don't worry. They don't have my number yet."

You lift the hem of the shirt high enough that he can see a couple scrapes on your side, which are vastly outnumbered by the bruises there. There's a couple places on your left side that are just... all green. You really did fall. (Your butt is also bruised as a result, but you're not showing him that.)

"See? Not bad. They'll be gone in a couple nights and you won't even know it happened."

hereticalsym69ls "That's not how knowledge works, Feli." You give her ear another nip.

The damage unsettles you, but it doesn't seem like it's as bad as it looks if she's not looking like she's about to die. You can worry and fuss, but perhaps less than you actually want to.

aberrantcadenza You give him a little chirp, smiling and leaning in to kiss him.

"If it was actually something to be worried about, I'd tell you. This is not something to worry about."

hereticalsym69ls "Pfft. Don't you know I worry about everything? It's my job."

You kiss her back and carefully wrap your arms around her so as not to disturb her injuries.

aberrantcadenza And you snuggle right into his hold, injuries be damned. Purrpurrpurrpurr. "Could I clawnvince you to take a vacation from worrying? I purromise I'll be just fine. I'll take care of myself and efurrything."

hereticalsym69ls "The night I take a vacation from worrying is the night hell freezes over."

Ah yes, snuggling, you can do with this. You purr and nuzzle her.

aberrantcadenza "Well I guess it's time to invent a freeze ray then." You finish off your braid, tie it off, and then opt to sit in his lap, snuggling close to him.

"I'll be okay. If I ever stop being okay, if anything gets worse or infected, I can let you know?"

hereticalsym69ls "You had better let me know. That'd be the worst kind of surprise to find out otherwise." Ah yes, more snuggling. With her on your lap and so close you can cover her in kisses.

aberrantcadenza "Consider it done then."

Prrrrrrrrr. You are more than content with this. You captchalogue your comb and relax fully into him, purring, kissing and snuggling.

"I love you."

hereticalsym69ls "I love you, too."

Worried as you are for her, you can't resist this display of affection. You purr loudly when she kisses you.

#/#//#///#////#/////#she's Lying #hereticalsym69ls #log archives

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someone-im-close-to-fanfic-blog · 7 years

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Chapter 2: His Recovery

Wilson begins recovering from his injuries and begins to notice how much he’s been missing out on from the others.

Chapter Rating: G

Wilson awoke to the sound of several people talking in rushed, worried voices. His hands and legs throbbed and the smells of medicine and meat stew filled his nose. He tried to sit up, but a firm hand pressed against his chest, moving him back down.

"Easy, Wilson." Wigfrid's rough, accented voice crooned softly in a gentle and almost motherly way. "You've been out for almost half the night. Take it easy."

"What happened?" Wilson mumbled and instantly regretted it, as his threat felt raw and dry. Apparently the water he had consumed either wasn't the cleanest or wasn't enough to quench him.

"You passed out at the front of the base. Wes put healing salve on your wounds and Wickerbottom and I made soup for you. No, no, don't sit up. I'll help you."

Wilson opened his mouth to protest but decided it was useless as Wigfrid raised the spoon to his lips, tilting her wrist slightly to allow the liquid to pour down the scientist's throat.

He had to admit, it was much better than anything he could ever make himself, at least not without a crockpot. The broth was just the right temperature–not too hot, not too cold–and it contained the perfect ratio of carrots to chunks of meat. Wilson could tell this wasn't just morsels of meat, either. This was real, actual meat, likely from a catcoon or possibly even Beefalo. Wilson would be more than impressed if he found out Wigfrid had managed to take down even one on her own, but not necessarily surprised.

"Feeling better?" Wigfrid asked after the scientist had downed the last spoonful.

Wilson nodded weakly. "Definitely." He croaked out with a smile. "That was amazing."

"I'm sure Miss Wickerbottom will be more than happy to hear it." There was an unusual cheeriness in her voice as she said this. Maybe it was relief. Wilson was too tired to tell.

The man simply nodded in response, still a bit too weary to do much else. Wigfrid got up to dispose of the bowl and spoon and Wilson's eyes met those of Wes', who was sitting by the fire pit not too far away. Wes smiled, obviously relieved to see the other was okay, and made his way over. He sat down next to Wilson and produced a piece of papyrus and a pen constructed from a twig, some berries for ink, and a red bird feather.

How are you feeling? He wrote and showed the paper to Wilson.

Wilson smiled at the mime's concern. "Better than I was earlier."

That's good. Wes wrote. Why have you been so busy? Did we do something wrong?

Wilson shook his head as frantically as he could muster. "A-absolutely not! What makes you think that?"

Wes' smile faded. You never so much as talk to anyone here anymore. You're always off doing...god knows what. I can tell even Wendy's become upset because of it. She sees you as a father, you know.

"...does she?" Wilson's eyes widened. "Oh...I'm sorry..." He hadn't been paying attention to how anyone else was feeling. Not that he really had time, anyway.

What is it, then, if not us? Wes looked at him curiously.

Wilson shook his head. "I can't tell you, Wes. I'm sorry. It's not...anyone's concern but my own. Please understand."

Well, you might as well tell us. The further you slip into your problems, the further everyone else slips into worry. Wilson was surprised at how fast and yet how neatly Wes could write in English. Then again, that was usually what he wrote in since no one else here could understand the language except for Woodie and Wickerbottom. The only time Wilson had ever seen Wes write in French was when he spied the mime and Woodie passing a piece of paper back and forth and writing. They appeared to be flirting. Wickerbottom looked over their shoulders to see what they were doing, went three shades paler in the face, and kept walking like nothing happened.

"Good point. Just...please give me some time to recover, okay?" Wilson said, feeling exhaustion catch up to him. "Thanks for healing me, by the way."

Wes nodded. You're welcome. Get well soon. He wrote a little heart at the end of the sentence and handed Wilson the paper as he left the other man to fall asleep. Wilson smiled at the little heart the mute had written in and folded the paper, setting it in the dirt next to him. He curled up close to the stone wall of the base and attempted to fall asleep.

Sleep he did, but he dreamed something rather strange. As his body relaxed against the vine-covered walls, his mind painted a wonderfully elaborate but mildly disturbing picture for him. He stood in the cave where he'd originally freed Maxwell a long, long time ago. Well, it didn't feel that long to Wilson, but time was a mysterious and fickle little thing. It felt so real, as if he was really standing there, the ominous black shadows threatening to swallow him whole with his only defense being his torch. He stepped forward and immediately he was faced with the shadow throne, but there was something horribly off about it. There was no music, only an eerie, bone-chilling silence. The throne had been raised some distance off the ground with only a sort of terrace supporting it and a railed black staircase leading up to it. Various potted plants surrounded it. They appeared to be filled with roses and spiky plants.

For a moment, Wilson thought he saw a woman dressed in black on the throne, but in a split second, she had disappeared. In her place sat a red feather the same color as the roses in the potted plants.

Wilson dared to step forward. The bottoms of his shoes clicked loudly against the tile (he assumed it was tile, anyway) of the staircase. He reached the top and dared to reach out to grab the feather, but then he felt a hand abruptly grab him on the shoulder. Wilson flinched hard and turned around, immediately locking eyes with the one standing behind him.

Maxwell.

"You can't keep this away from us forever, you know." His voice sounded so clear, so real, that for an instant Wilson wanted to scream and ask what happened and why he had come back here, but the words caught in his throat. The next thing he knew, he shot up in his tent, sweating and on the verge of crying out for help.

He panted heavily as he tried to recover from the ridiculously realistic dream he'd just had. As he came to his senses, he found that his wounds didn't nearly hurt as bad as before and couldn't help but wonder if Wes had slipped extra spider glands into his healing salves. The scientist also noticed that this was not where he'd fallen asleep the night before and wondered who could have moved him here. He stumbled out of his tent and noticed his clothes were extremely dirty and a little torn at the edges.

"When the hell did I let this happen to myself?!" He thought, appalled with himself for being so careless. Even in the darkest emotional times, you were still supposed to take care of yourself, right? Wilson suddenly became embarrassed, first because everyone had seen him like this and second because he was being so self-absorbed it would be laughable to anyone who knew how he felt.

For a moment, Wilson thought of sneaking out again, but he felt someone grab the exact same shoulder that was grabbed in his dream and he flinched even harder than he had then.

"Don't even think about leaving." Wickerbottom warned him. "You're taking it easy for now, mister."

"Yes, ma'am." Wilson sighed at his plan being foiled. Wickerbottom withdrew her hand.

"Sorry, was that spot in pain? You flinched rather hard when I touched you."

Wilson shook his head. "No, just...bad dream. I'm still a bit jumpy."

"I see." Wickerbottom nodded. "Then, I suppose, go get your bandages changed and, if you can, help start breakfast."

Wilson nodded and noticed he could walk with less effort now that the medication had done its job. He wandered over to where Wolfgang and Wes stood by the crockpot menagerie, preparing the morning meal for everyone.

"Good morning, Wilson." Wolfgang's thick Russian accent pierced Wilson's ears. Wes simply nodded with a smile.

"Hey..." Wilson also noticed his throat felt much better. "What are we making?"

"Jam. It's what we got." Wolfgang shrugged and handed Wilson a pouch full of freshly harvested berries. Wilson began to wonder what everyone had been doing while he was away, and that put him into perspective of just how distant he was from everyone else.

"Right. Okay." Wilson got to work helping the other two add berries to the pots and he decided he'd find a way to manufacture some bread since eating straight jam was still a bit strange to him even after all this time.

"Wigfrid already gone." Wolfgang said in his broken English. "Went to hunt. Hope she don't get hurt."

"Neither do I." Wilson nodded in agreement, thinking back to how she treated him last night. He wondered why she'd suddenly grown soft on him. She wasn't usually like that at all.

Wes tapped Wolfgang's shoulder and pointed to the tents. Wendy and Webber had woken up and stumbled over to the fire pits.

"Morning..." Wendy mumbled, rubbing her eyes. Webber seemed to be wide awake.

"Good morning!" He called, a bit loudly. Wendy tapped his shoulder and whispered for him to keep it down and he nodded.

"Sorry."

"It's okay." Wendy rubbed the side of her head.

"Do you have a headache?" Wilson asked her. Wendy shook her head.

"Just need to wake up is all."

"I see."

The adults dished out the jam as the rest of the residents woke up, save for Wigfrid, who was well on her way to complete her daily hunting rounds by now.

"I'm a bit surprised you're still here, Wilson." Wendy commented over breakfast.

"Wendy," Wickerbottom chastised. "Be polite."

"No, it's okay. I'm still too injured to go anywhere, so even if I wanted to leave, I couldn't." Wilson laughed nervously, putting extra emphasis on 'wanted'. He noticed Maxwell was eyeing him strangely but decided to ignore it. After everyone was done, they parted ways to complete their daily tasks; harvesting the garden, crafting needed materials, fighting off spiders (much to the dislike of Webber), and other such chores. When Wilson went to stand, he was stopped by none other than Wickerbottom.

"Ah, ah. Don't you think about leaving." She warned. "I'm having Wes and Wolfgang watch over you for the day to make sure you don't try anything funny. Your wounds are still healing, after all."

Wilson nodded. "I didn't plan on it anyway." He shrugged.

Wickerbottom stared him down for a bit before sitting down for breakfast as well. Everyone ate in silence, with Webber finishing first and Wendy being the last. The two went off to play hide and seek in the garden and Wilson warned them to watch out for bees. There he sat, by the fire, as per Wickerbottom's instructions for most of the morning. Occasionally Wes applied more medicine to his wounds, but by now they were looking much better. Wilson figured he wouldn't need medication the next few days, even though it still hurt to move around.

The day passed slowly for the scientist, as there wasn't much to do. Wendy wasn't much of a conversationalist and Webber WOULD have been there with her if not for the fact that today he was in charge of handling the spider farm. Despite the fact that he was part spider himself, he seemed to have no issue with killing his own kind. This, Wilson supposed, was in part why Wendy got along so well with him; they both seemed relatively unfazed by death. As the day droned on, Wilson began to notice things that even before he began moping about he didn't see in the others. For example, he overheard a conversation between Wickerbottom and Wolfgang, in which Wolfgang stated that he preferred his meatballs made with a touch of monster meat, followed by Wickerbottom warning him about its effects on his sanity. He also saw Wes surprise Webber with a spider-shaped balloon animal later in the day. Webber adored it and it even got a smile out of Wendy, who remarked that it was lovely. Wes seemed content with their reaction, even though Wilson knew it had taken a toll on the mime's sanity. Sitting there, Wilson couldn't help but wonder just how much he had missed by being absent from the base.

The question bothered him for most of the day as he watched his campmates come and go, not moving due to Wickerbottom's warning that it may screw up the healing process. Wilson thought that was utter BS, but there was no use in disobeying her. It gave him some time for thought, anyway, a privilege that he did not receive often.

It was a relatively nice day, for autumn. Winter would be coming soon, and everyone knew it. Everyone except for Wilson, apparently. The incoming change of season had not come to his attention recently, and it made him wonder if he was really so thickheaded as to have let that pass him by so easily. The sun felt nice on his bare skin and a gentle breeze blew against his face and through his hair, and god, did it feel wonderful. His injuries and the low throbbing sensation given off by his blistered hands were forgotten as he closed his eyes and quickly snapped them back open.

'Just a moment...' He quickly looked around the camp. 'One, two, three... where's Maxwell?'

The scientist pursed his lips. 'So they'll excuse his absence, but not mine.' He thought disdainfully. Then again, Maxwell could actually take care of himself, Wilson thought with a bitter smile. He shrugged to himself.

Just then, he remembered something. He'd left a pack at the makeshift lab he'd set up a bit of a ways away from the camp. It contained various gems and some other materials including a strange staff-like object he found in a chest. These were items he planned to inspect closer, and he figured that if he was going to be stuck here with these injuries he might as well do SOMETHING with his time.

It would just take a moment for Wilson to get there if he stuck to the roads. No one would even notice he was gone. He saw Wigfrid come back a moment ago, inventory full of meat, and knew that there'd be next to no risk of him being caught with everyone preparing dinner. As soon as he heard the sound of the crockpots being opened, he shot out through the gap in the stone walls, not bothering to look behind him. He made it about halfway there before he heard the sounds of twigs cracking and froze dead in his tracks.

'Crap.' What a genius he was for completely skipping out on bringing a decent weapon. In fact, he had virtually nothing on him, and injured hands would be a huge bitch to fight with. He slowly began to tread backwards the way he came before he bumped into a tall, thin figure behind him. Wilson flinched hard before two hands rested themselves on the smaller man's trembling shoulders.

#don't starve #story #chapter 2

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