With the dark twist purging her mind of the good memories they'd just made, Dela sat in her red snow, left to just watch Vera go through it as well but being powerless to stop it. Not only had her friend had to deal with a resummoning of all the ghosts and the horrors they brought, but in the end, an actual human met his end by dust dagger, which put a staunch period on the end of the dumpster fire sentence.
Though she was traumatized and in pain, Dela had watched as she always did. If there was nothing else reliable about Millicent Magdelana Hodgins, it was that her observational mind never shut off. There was something to be learned even from the worst scenarios, and this was a rare chance to learn about her two companions. They were just as secretive as she was, which was saying something. Admittedly, though, the images that had been shown to her of such a bleak future continued to haunt her, and in the silence that followed Scrooge's death, the blonde was left to suffer. Bloody palms rose to each side of her head and occasionally pounded her skull as if it would knock the thoughts out of her head and make them stop.
Her spiral into torment might have continued if Cillain's hands hadn't taken hers despite the gore. It was then she noticed he'd passed on his jacket to her, and just how cold her trembling body was. Unaware that someone like Cillian possessed a healing ability, the shock of feeling her pain lessen sobered her. Her bleeding stopped, though the aches remained. She met his eyes, grateful he was there. He was real. He grounded her in the present, reassuring her that the future she'd been shown hadn't happened yet and was still changeable. It was enough to start to force her way out of the depressing rut.
"I wanna go home..." she said quietly, almost a whisper since she didn't trust her voice right now. He helped her stand, scooped up Vera, and led them toward the closest safe place, which just happened to be exactly her home in the Rune Knights headquarters. She was worried about Vera, but even if Cillian was rather stupid, at this moment she trusted that he would have told her if their friend was in any pressing danger. If what Vera saw hit as hard or harder than what Dela saw, she understood the retreat into unconsciousness. She wished she could, as well, but showing that kind of vulnerability wasn't in her yet.
Upon entering the HQ, Dela all but ordered the substitute secretary to ignore the trio and informed her that they were going to her room. Before long she was hurriedly unlocking her door and nearly sprinting for her bed, which she shoved a pile of something off of and flopped down onto as if it was a mother's hug. Relief flooded her small frame and, if she'd been alone, she probably would have sobbed into her pillow until she fell asleep. Instead, since she had two guests, she rolled over to one side of her mattress so Cillian could lay Vera down comfortably. He wasn't getting his jacket back, though. She'd already snuggled into it and his smell was comforting.
Her room was neither tidy nor messy. It flirted with the line between, seeming a little cluttered and sporting a pizza box or two (which may or may not still have pizza in it) while also having a crumb and junk-free floor. There was a pile of laundry in her basket in the corner, but they were all freshly laundered, and not a dirty article could be found. She just hadn't bothered to put them away. A TV stand with multiple game systems sat equidistant from a couch and her bed, allowing her to comfortably binge TV shows and game from either place. A desk was nestled in the corner furthest from the door, covered in stacks of books, papers, magazines, tape recorders, and notebooks with a small clearing for her to work right in front of the chair. On the wall and obscured by the stacks was a bulletin board full of notes and pictures and maps, with thin strands of yarn pinned to connect them.
What might have been most jarring about her room to those that know her but have never seen it, was the overall theme. Snarky, street-smart Dela had a room that looked like a pastel, glittery rainbow had thrown up all over it. Everything was unbearably cute and girly. There were plushies of every conceivable animal lining the walls and empty spaces other than the floor and the counters of the kitchenette. Unicorns and cats seemed to be her favorites to collect. It was a whole aesthetic that extended to unicorn skins on her consols and a fuzzy pink border stretched around her TV. The bed she and Vera laid on had been covered with a comforting pile of plushies, though she'd shoved most of those off onto the floor when she entered the room to make space for an extra person. Also, though she showed little interest in it (other than an outlier moment at the rave), she had peppy dance music playing all the time, though right now it was annoying her enough to reach out and fumble through some clutter on her bedstand for the stereo remote. Once it was off, she sighed. Then she made an 'oof' sound.
A fat orange cat had suddenly jumped directly into her stomach, knocking some of the wind out of her. He must have been hiding under the bed. "Toulouse, careful..." she muttered, giving him an affectionate scratch behind the ear as her eyes trailed for the other one. "Where's Paris?" she asked, hearing a mrowl from the end of the bed, where a more skittish and slender white cat with emerald eyes was sneaking out for a look at Dela's first guests. Dela glanced at them as well, a little self-conscious about what all they could glean about her from her home, but also relieved they were with her. "Make yourself at home," she said, then motioned toward the kitchenette and fridge. "There are plenty of snacks over there if you want something."
Now was the time to unpack all that had happened at the festival. It had finally hit a point that none of them could avoid talking about, and even if that meant she'd have to explain herself as well, she wasn't about to let this one ride. Once they'd all calmed down, she had questions.
[wc: 1106]
Though she was traumatized and in pain, Dela had watched as she always did. If there was nothing else reliable about Millicent Magdelana Hodgins, it was that her observational mind never shut off. There was something to be learned even from the worst scenarios, and this was a rare chance to learn about her two companions. They were just as secretive as she was, which was saying something. Admittedly, though, the images that had been shown to her of such a bleak future continued to haunt her, and in the silence that followed Scrooge's death, the blonde was left to suffer. Bloody palms rose to each side of her head and occasionally pounded her skull as if it would knock the thoughts out of her head and make them stop.
Her spiral into torment might have continued if Cillain's hands hadn't taken hers despite the gore. It was then she noticed he'd passed on his jacket to her, and just how cold her trembling body was. Unaware that someone like Cillian possessed a healing ability, the shock of feeling her pain lessen sobered her. Her bleeding stopped, though the aches remained. She met his eyes, grateful he was there. He was real. He grounded her in the present, reassuring her that the future she'd been shown hadn't happened yet and was still changeable. It was enough to start to force her way out of the depressing rut.
"I wanna go home..." she said quietly, almost a whisper since she didn't trust her voice right now. He helped her stand, scooped up Vera, and led them toward the closest safe place, which just happened to be exactly her home in the Rune Knights headquarters. She was worried about Vera, but even if Cillian was rather stupid, at this moment she trusted that he would have told her if their friend was in any pressing danger. If what Vera saw hit as hard or harder than what Dela saw, she understood the retreat into unconsciousness. She wished she could, as well, but showing that kind of vulnerability wasn't in her yet.
Upon entering the HQ, Dela all but ordered the substitute secretary to ignore the trio and informed her that they were going to her room. Before long she was hurriedly unlocking her door and nearly sprinting for her bed, which she shoved a pile of something off of and flopped down onto as if it was a mother's hug. Relief flooded her small frame and, if she'd been alone, she probably would have sobbed into her pillow until she fell asleep. Instead, since she had two guests, she rolled over to one side of her mattress so Cillian could lay Vera down comfortably. He wasn't getting his jacket back, though. She'd already snuggled into it and his smell was comforting.
Her room was neither tidy nor messy. It flirted with the line between, seeming a little cluttered and sporting a pizza box or two (which may or may not still have pizza in it) while also having a crumb and junk-free floor. There was a pile of laundry in her basket in the corner, but they were all freshly laundered, and not a dirty article could be found. She just hadn't bothered to put them away. A TV stand with multiple game systems sat equidistant from a couch and her bed, allowing her to comfortably binge TV shows and game from either place. A desk was nestled in the corner furthest from the door, covered in stacks of books, papers, magazines, tape recorders, and notebooks with a small clearing for her to work right in front of the chair. On the wall and obscured by the stacks was a bulletin board full of notes and pictures and maps, with thin strands of yarn pinned to connect them.
What might have been most jarring about her room to those that know her but have never seen it, was the overall theme. Snarky, street-smart Dela had a room that looked like a pastel, glittery rainbow had thrown up all over it. Everything was unbearably cute and girly. There were plushies of every conceivable animal lining the walls and empty spaces other than the floor and the counters of the kitchenette. Unicorns and cats seemed to be her favorites to collect. It was a whole aesthetic that extended to unicorn skins on her consols and a fuzzy pink border stretched around her TV. The bed she and Vera laid on had been covered with a comforting pile of plushies, though she'd shoved most of those off onto the floor when she entered the room to make space for an extra person. Also, though she showed little interest in it (other than an outlier moment at the rave), she had peppy dance music playing all the time, though right now it was annoying her enough to reach out and fumble through some clutter on her bedstand for the stereo remote. Once it was off, she sighed. Then she made an 'oof' sound.
A fat orange cat had suddenly jumped directly into her stomach, knocking some of the wind out of her. He must have been hiding under the bed. "Toulouse, careful..." she muttered, giving him an affectionate scratch behind the ear as her eyes trailed for the other one. "Where's Paris?" she asked, hearing a mrowl from the end of the bed, where a more skittish and slender white cat with emerald eyes was sneaking out for a look at Dela's first guests. Dela glanced at them as well, a little self-conscious about what all they could glean about her from her home, but also relieved they were with her. "Make yourself at home," she said, then motioned toward the kitchenette and fridge. "There are plenty of snacks over there if you want something."
Now was the time to unpack all that had happened at the festival. It had finally hit a point that none of them could avoid talking about, and even if that meant she'd have to explain herself as well, she wasn't about to let this one ride. Once they'd all calmed down, she had questions.
[wc: 1106]
