26. LOL

[heisrisen]

[Public]

[The Emperor stands the hallway of Level One, awkwardly clutching a beehive shaped like a small griffon, with soot smudges on his face, dirt on his clothes, a few drowsy bees bumbling around him, and the door of his room, smoke billowing gently through the sliver of open door behind him.]

No need to be - alarmed.

[His breath catches wrong, and he coughs hard for a few seconds.]

Planned incineration. Perfectly contained.

If nobody claims the bees they're going to the greenhouse.



[Private to Barbara]

I'm going to need a new room.



[Spam - deliveries for Bush, Morgana, Hannibal, and Sylvanas.]

[Hours earlier, but not many- On the morning of the 10th, each of them will open their doors to find neatly potted plants. Bush recieves one elegant apple bonsai, less than two feet high. Morgana gets several pots of pansies, in different colors, arranged so as not to block the door, Sylvanas gets catnip, and Hannibal gets herbs - basil, sage, rosemary, and thyme.]

Comments

[walkingmeltdown]

This is what happens if you stick around here too long, is it. You start thinking of it as 'home'. The fellow captives and jailers here as 'family'.

[Lurking behind his frustration and derision is a touch of genuine alarm. He's already as good as resigned to the idea he probably isn't going anywhere for awhile.

So what's going to eventually happen to him?]

[heisrisen]

That's also inevitable. Humans bond as a result of trauma.

It's brilliant, and evil, and it works.

[He's gone through the fear and fury and despair phases; this is calm, cold, clear-eyed assessment. Perhaps even a little admiration. The admiral's methods have a certain blunt, horrific efficacy.]

[walkingmeltdown]

[He's more or less past denial; he'll be stuck on anger and bargaining for a bit, though. And when he hits depression...that's a valley that's probably going to run rather deep.

Today though, he'll settle for being mildly irritated.]

Except for the people that slip through the cracks. The ones that never graduate, yet disappear anyway.

[heisrisen]

Except for them, yes.

[walkingmeltdown]

You don't think there's any pattern to it. That they're just the ones who...get away. Randomly.

[heisrisen]

People who've gone into multiple comas are more likely to vanish. The correlation is very slight, but statistically significant. No difference between inmates and wardens.

That's the only pattern that's ever been found.

[walkingmeltdown]

Have you ever been in one these comas?

[heisrisen]

No.

[walkingmeltdown]

[Just...sharp, thoughtful sound. He'll have to consider this further.]

Well. Thank you for your information, anyway.

[onecertainly]

That's... quite disheartening, actually. I never thought I'd mourn bees but --

I'm glad you found these.

[godsays]

No. You're not.

[ Okay. ]

[heisrisen]

No, I'm not. But I'm having an easier time to pretending to be okay than I was this morning.

[Tired, raw, slightly rueful. This is what he is now. He's making his peace with as much of it as he can.]

[heisrisen]

It is. They're much more important than they seem - they pollinated thousands of plant species. Things got a worse a lot more quickly without them.

Some systems recovered in time, but some did not. These are - precious.

[heisrisen]

Good.

[Grateful, a little relieved.]

Private

[bodilesswarrior]

Good plan.

...I don't exactly have an apiary in here.

[Private]

[youwill]

[He just inclines his head.]

Thank you for the herbs. [He does not say, that was kind, or, that was unnecessary. They know.]

[Spam]

[forsaken_queen]

[Unfortunately, the Emperor seems to have forgotten the fact that Lirath is not a small house cat. He's not quite full grown, but he's about as big as some of the larger breed dogs on the ship.

And he jumps. Which he does, leaping up at the tray, going to snag one of the meaty treats, because why would you deny him? Is he not the cutest thing you've ever seen? Also he is hungry.]

[godsays]

Pretending is the first step. Being can follow.

[Private]

[youwillgotohell]

[She remembers it, strangely distant and still painfully close. She has been forgetting her children, letting memory unmake them. She's not sure what to do with that guilt, so she sets it aside.]

What are you grieving?

[Private]

[heisrisen]

[His mouth twitches. Toward what is hard to say.]

Home.

[Not just the planet.]

[Spam]

[heisrisen]

[He hasn't forgotten - and he's kept big cats before. Some of them can't really be managed this way at all, but Lirath's from a working breed despite his cushy circumstances, and there's a biddable, trainable core to him - if he accepts someone. Aslan, confident in his reception, dodges with neat balance, and smacks Lirath's nose with the backs of his knuckles. It's more for shock than pain, but not light, either.]

No. I don't care how much she spoils you.

[heisrisen]

[He doesn't become any more hopeful, really. But there's a soft rush of gratitude and affection, frothed at the edges with awkward resentment, tumbling over the spare simplicity of catharsis. He smiles wanly.]

I am trying, Zane.

[godsays]

I know. I know.

You're perfect.

[onecertainly]

Is the greenhouse suited for them? It would be a shame to lose them after such trouble.

[Spam]

[forsaken_queen]

[The truth is she doesn't spoil him. It's everyone else that spoils him. He's picked up a lot of doggy habits from his canine friends, both living and undead. And the bop on the nose is a definite shock. It's a sharp change of dynamics that almost ruins his buzz completely, as he sits abruptly, as if coming to attention. The playful cat sobers to serious on a dime. Sylvanas really is training him. She just lets him be himself when not right at her side.]