i'm like a bird, i only fly away

[decohere]

Who: Ava & OTA
When: End of December
Warnings: Village discussions likely

i. you're beautiful, that's for sure

Do Not Disturb.

The sign is posted outside their cabin door the day they return and remains through the end of the year, to discourage any well-meaning visitors from bringing any extra stress. She takes great care in securing an environment that Peter can feel safe to recover in, until he's ready to face anyone else.

(text if needed -ava)

ii. you'll never, ever fade

Though she doesn't leave the room much herself, she does occasionally convince herself of the need for fresh air, to walk off the anxiety around the sports deck. She isn't paying much attention to where she's going though, eyes fixed on the stars.

iii. you're lovely, but it's not for sure

She can be found sometimes at the cafe, staring into her cup of tea or preparing a platter to bring back to the room.

iv. that i won't ever change

Toward the end of the week she's got a large pile of dirty clothes she's sorting through in the laundry room, separating the lights (mostly hers) from the darks (mostly Peter's). She has a small pile of things she's pulling out of the pockets, after making the mistake of having washed her pens one time too many. She finds the number badge, and clutches tightly to it.

v. and though my love is rare

And in the middle of one afternoon she's completely passed out in a library armchair, too many late nights watching guard over her husband sleep catching up with her. Jurassic Park lays open on the floor by her feet.

vi. and though my love is true

wildcard me

Comments

[lovethyneighb_or]

"O--oh, my goodness--!" Mulcahy jumps in surprise when he sees who's come up next to him, a hand flying to his chest. The other goes to fix his glasses. "Er--yes, cheese has a fascinating range of qualities and--ah, uh, uses... although I didn't know much about them myself until I got here, back home all we really had was cheddar, cottage, and Stilton..."

Yes yes casual conversation he's winning at being normal. Mulcahy doesn't fear death in the slightest, not while he's here, but he is nervous about what Ava deems a fitting fate for a Villager.

[decohere]

"Cottage is a bit lumpy," Ava nods along conversationally, casually propping her arm up against the wall. Trying to gauge if she simply startled him, or if she really is making him nervous, she leans in.

"But I prefer it to brie. Texture is smooth, but can't get past that smell."

[lovethyneighb_or]

"I can't s-say I've ever had it," he stammers, leaning back as she leans in. "It wasn't terribly available, er, to me, back home, there was an... awful lot of war rationing..."

But then it dissolves suddenly. His stance doesn't become confrontational, or confident, but... there's a certain squareness that sets into his shoulders, an ease of being, like his choices are laid plainly in front of him. He can cut straight to the heart of this, or keep playing denial. The answer is even plainer.

"... I apologize. You recognize me, don't you?"

[decohere]

"Humanity sure loves its wars," Ava comments with distinct disapproval, because... which war, really. But there is something characteristically old timey about rationing. That if he was from a timeline similar to her own Earth's, she can start narrowing it down.

She relaxes a bit when he cuts to the point. "Enough to know you were around at the Village. Not enough to have any opinions on you. Enough to know you seem to have some sort of opinion of me."

[lovethyneighb_or]

There's a huff that's a bit like a laugh. "I found it rather difficult not to, after witnessing the way you killed Number 2. I'm not a fan of prescribing judgement, but if there was ever a man that deserved to be struck down... well, he'd make a very strong case."

[decohere]

"And you know what? Hardly anyone even thanked me for that." Ava crosses her arms with a pout. "But fine, yes. It was a bit gruesome. But after what he did to my husband, I wasn't allowing him an easy out."

[lovethyneighb_or]

“Well, you have my thanks.” It's a complicated gratitude, but gratitude nonetheless. He tilts his head slightly. “If only I’d been sure of how it’d be received. You were well within your rights to do what you did, and you did quite a lot of your group a favor. But you hardly did it for me.”

[decohere]

"Mostly for my husband, yes. But I had others I cared about, that were taken. Hurt and brainwashed. Too. Whatever happened to the rest of you as a result of that was outside of my control. There were no alternatives to pursue at that point. So if you lost friends, I am sorry about that." She lost Bill, again, after all. But he wasn't really her Bill to lose.