[ It's nice of Lune to ask, but Four is visibly unwell. She looks around every once in a while like it's a new nervous tic she just picked up. When she takes a seat next to them, it takes a good effort for her to focus on them. ]
I'm— I'm scared. I don't want to be. I want to be able to help, but I'm scared.
[ She looks at their hands, as if they might bite. Very, very hesitantly, she places a hand on one of theirs. ]
I know we tried to head off some of the darkness, but more death still happened— [ Two more than expected. Two fewer targets for any lingering corruption this week. ] And I was suspected but not for the right one— [ Because she was an uncooperative, fussy, dumb bitch. ] Who will be next? How many more will there be?
[ She's frantic, and her hand trembles ever so slightly. ]
[and lune will just move to gently cup that extended hand in between both of theirs, only lightly so that she can remove her hand whenever she would like. for now, they try to calm her with the certainty of another person's hold]
I cannot see the future, but my hopes are that they are not great in number. Even so, I do not wish to lie to you.
But please hear me when I say -
Thank you for your service, and you are doing well. I only wish I could give you more.
[ She looks at their hands and doesn't know if she wants to rip her hand away or keep it there. She wants the comfort but hates the circumstances. No one can see the future, but all she can see is her failures.
All she can see is how people are better than she is. All she can think about is how she's not as good as other people are. All she can think about is how she hates feeling this way.
If she's doing well, why does she feel like this? Why does she still feel like this? ]
I wish for more, too.
[ She sounds on the verge of crying or on the verge of yelling. ]
[lune sits with her patiently and even if she's not quite voicing her anxiety, the tension seems to radiate off of her enough that they're able to tell. they don't pull away and remain in front of her, serene and peaceful as they wait.]
[ . . . there is a pause at that and lune will just gently squeeze her hand in between theirs just once]
... it is only human, to lack perfection. To be lost in the tides of everything that you must endure in life, for you are not the only one who is attempting their best at 'living' - in whatever form that may come. Uncertainty, while unpleasant, is not uncommon.
I believe in you just as much as I did the first day - no matter what turmoil you are feeling.
[ What if she isn't human? What if she doesn't want to be human? What if she just wants the tides to come and take everyone and everything out to sea to drown?
What if she doesn't want to be common?
Her face twists. ]
I don't want that. I don't want any of that! I already know I'm imperfect! I hate it! I hate it I hate it I HATE IT.
[ Her voice breaks. There isn't a danger of tears, but she's so taken off guard by that question. ]
I'm not—I'm not anything. I'm not pretty, I"m not beautiful, I'm not smart, I'm not charming, I'm none of that! The only thing unique about me is my nails, and they keep on growing even without my powers. They're so ugly. I hate them! They keep growing and growing and growing, and they're worthless! I hate them! I wish I could rip them all off.
[ She's borderline hysterical and only getting angrier by the second. ]
but lune will pause thoughtfully before moving their hand that was covering hers, as if they only want to look at her nails. then they'll gently brush their fingertips over hers, and comment rather simply:]
I think your nails are lovely.
[and their head tilts as their gaze lifts up to her face]
I think you're very lovely. Intelligent, hard-working, deserving of attention and care.
[lune will reach out - carefully, and only lightly. but their fingertips will find the curve of clover's jaw to try to keep her from her shaking, to earn her attention]
Then I will say it, and prove it, until you are able to believe me.
She lets them stop her, but the eyes that stare up at them are defiant, full of anger and hatred. Whether that anger and hatred is pointed internally or externally or both is hard to tell. ]
... I am bound so that I may not show clear favoritism....
[and they do seem rather apologetic for that but]
But I will stay with you as long as you would like, and you may share time with me for as long as you might need. If you seek distractions, or want for anything else that I can grant...
NO I'M KIDDING but she's thinking it. She is thinking it with all her might.
She looks at Lune for a long, long moment, at how they're shrouded in their hood and wonders a great many things about what's underneath and how much she really cares. ]
What I want right now, I don't think you can grant me.
[ Her voice is as cold as ice, and she abruptly stands, pulling away from them. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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I'm— I'm scared. I don't want to be. I want to be able to help, but I'm scared.
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lune will pause and then place down the tea cup then, extended their hands out to her, palms up.]
Here, here.
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I know we tried to head off some of the darkness, but more death still happened— [ Two more than expected. Two fewer targets for any lingering corruption this week. ] And I was suspected but not for the right one— [ Because she was an uncooperative, fussy, dumb bitch. ] Who will be next? How many more will there be?
[ She's frantic, and her hand trembles ever so slightly. ]
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I cannot see the future, but my hopes are that they are not great in number. Even so, I do not wish to lie to you.
But please hear me when I say -
Thank you for your service, and you are doing well. I only wish I could give you more.
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All she can see is how people are better than she is. All she can think about is how she's not as good as other people are. All she can think about is how she hates feeling this way.
If she's doing well, why does she feel like this? Why does she still feel like this? ]
I wish for more, too.
[ She sounds on the verge of crying or on the verge of yelling. ]
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What is it that you want?
How may I help?
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How can you help? How can you help me feel like I'm not... I'm not....
[ Just saying that much is a lot for her. Acknowledging her faults is something she hates. They're all things she denies whenever she can. ]
I don't want to have weaknesses.
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... it is only human, to lack perfection. To be lost in the tides of everything that you must endure in life, for you are not the only one who is attempting their best at 'living' - in whatever form that may come. Uncertainty, while unpleasant, is not uncommon.
I believe in you just as much as I did the first day - no matter what turmoil you are feeling.
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What if she doesn't want to be common?
Her face twists. ]
I don't want that. I don't want any of that! I already know I'm imperfect! I hate it! I hate it I hate it I HATE IT.
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not that lune is actually reacting to that, pausing only briefly in the face of her outburst]
... why is it that you find such disdain for yourself?
[it's a gently confused question, like lune can't fathom why she would be unhappy when they're so fond of her]
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[ Her voice breaks. There isn't a danger of tears, but she's so taken off guard by that question. ]
I'm not—I'm not anything. I'm not pretty, I"m not beautiful, I'm not smart, I'm not charming, I'm none of that! The only thing unique about me is my nails, and they keep on growing even without my powers. They're so ugly. I hate them! They keep growing and growing and growing, and they're worthless! I hate them! I wish I could rip them all off.
[ She's borderline hysterical and only getting angrier by the second. ]
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but lune will pause thoughtfully before moving their hand that was covering hers, as if they only want to look at her nails. then they'll gently brush their fingertips over hers, and comment rather simply:]
I think your nails are lovely.
[and their head tilts as their gaze lifts up to her face]
I think you're very lovely. Intelligent, hard-working, deserving of attention and care.
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I can't believe you. I don't believe you. I won't believe you.
[ Because even someone she loves and admires to the point of imitation wants to kill her now. ]
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Then I will say it, and prove it, until you are able to believe me.
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She lets them stop her, but the eyes that stare up at them are defiant, full of anger and hatred. Whether that anger and hatred is pointed internally or externally or both is hard to tell. ]
How can you prove it?
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... I am bound so that I may not show clear favoritism....
[and they do seem rather apologetic for that but]
But I will stay with you as long as you would like, and you may share time with me for as long as you might need. If you seek distractions, or want for anything else that I can grant...
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NO I'M KIDDING but she's thinking it. She is thinking it with all her might.
She looks at Lune for a long, long moment, at how they're shrouded in their hood and wonders a great many things about what's underneath and how much she really cares. ]
What I want right now, I don't think you can grant me.
[ Her voice is as cold as ice, and she abruptly stands, pulling away from them. ]
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but lune will allow her to go without trying to hold her back, their hands returning to their lap as she rises]
May I ask that you at least share what that is?
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No.
[ A soft giggle escapes from her lips. ]
I don't think you should know.
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[though they'll just pause as she stands in front of them]
I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help. [and they do sound sincerely saddened by this, a frown in their voice] You must be feeling very uncertain.
Even so... you may return to see me whenever you'd like, if you grow weary of hiding from others.
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four is a horrible person, lune!! don't be like this!! ]
... I wonder if you'd still say the same thing if you knew what I was really thinking.
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[but they don't seem entirely bothered and will keep drinking the tea that she prepared]
Even so, I won't push you to tell me. But the invitation for a place to return to will always be open for you.
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So it's what she's doing. ]
Goodbye, Lune.
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their voice is as fond as ever]
Until we meet again, dear Four. Please take care.