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betterthanaplanIt had been rather a nasty weekend for the folks living on the Rouge. Friday, of course, was facing down Mara, hopefully for the last time, and the fall out from that had lasted right through the next three days, with all three of them on egg shells with each other as they tried to deal.
Duke, especially, had been doing a lot of thinking. Too much thinking. About all the messy emotions he’d let out at Lucifer with nary a trouble — of his — in sight. The guilt alone should have us him babbling nonsense, and the denial, the grief, the anger, the defensiveness. . . .
But they’d touched him. They’d understood him. No one had started screaming in pain or finding their faces sewn up.
He was afraid to put words to what that meant.
He was also, once the lingering soreness of . . . whatever the hell “exploding” had amounted to, feeling physically better than he had in ages. So when his thoughts proved too much for him to sleep through, he made his way up to the deck and started working through some sun salutations.
He hadn’t noticed the dead plant yet.
[for the fellow boat people! Up a bit early EST for time zones and all the slow play purposes!]
Duke, especially, had been doing a lot of thinking. Too much thinking. About all the messy emotions he’d let out at Lucifer with nary a trouble — of his — in sight. The guilt alone should have us him babbling nonsense, and the denial, the grief, the anger, the defensiveness. . . .
But they’d touched him. They’d understood him. No one had started screaming in pain or finding their faces sewn up.
He was afraid to put words to what that meant.
He was also, once the lingering soreness of . . . whatever the hell “exploding” had amounted to, feeling physically better than he had in ages. So when his thoughts proved too much for him to sleep through, he made his way up to the deck and started working through some sun salutations.
He hadn’t noticed the dead plant yet.
[for the fellow boat people! Up a bit early EST for time zones and all the slow play purposes!]