OPEN I've got thick skin and an elastic heart

[LUCIA S]

(i can’’t be saved) reaching for the life I threw away

watching as it circles in the drain

An hour before sunset, the cabbit sludged through the shallows of the River of Life. With every step closer to the shore, Lucia’s paws took on more body weight, more strain. So, too, did the weight of the half-full net secured to a strap across her waist. Pebbles shifted below her paws and threatened to unbalance her.

Her teeth chattered. Water dripped from her whiskers. Her waterproof coat protected her from the worst of hypothermia, but she was not adapted to this cold climate. She’d grown up on a tropical island and while her mutations allowed her to thrive in the water, she couldn’t spend too much time in the frigid waters.

Lucia’s rear paws left the water. As she walked towards her home, she shook out each paw one by one. Her teeth still chattered. Her pawpads and nose had long since gone numb from the river’s chill. Now came the worst of the pinpricks of returning bloodflow.

By Requiem and Vayu (no, by Neandryne), Lucia wished the worst of her pain was the bloodflow returning to her nose. She sneezed. That jerk of the head flung the rest of the water off her coat.

She should be grateful. She was grateful. Yesterday, her abdomen had burned with agony both razor sharp and bone crushing. She hadn’t been able to leave her home, nevermind go for her morning swim. That had worried Monty. But failing to go for a swim this morning? That had alarmed him. She hated seeing him like that, hated knowing she caused those feelings in him. Gods (no, God), why couldn’t her body let her live?

Lucia continued walking. The net containing freshwater clams and mussels dragged behind her.

Now she was out of the river, the dull agony in her abdomen returned. Bloodflow? Or the cold soothed the inflammation? She bit her lip, but kept walking.

Right before the meeting, Monty had given her medicine for the pain. She’d taken half. Maybe if she’d taken the full dose, she would have a full net of food for everyone. But, no, pain wasn’t reasonable like that. A full dose today? She’d take a full dose the next time the pain climbed this high. How long until she needed such a dose that it clouded her mind, prevented her from swimming? The pain had started as nothing more than an increase of menstruation agony. Was yesterday her new maximum pain day? Or was yesterday going to be the new normal in six months? Was this pain noise to overcome or a signal of her impending death?

Lucia focused on the crunching snow beneath her paws. The texture of the cold against her complaining paw pads. The smell of the sharp cold signaling tomorrow would be frigid.

Monty would be waiting for her. If the pain returned tomorrow, he’d be there to help. If the pain wasn’t there? Nobody would be happier than him—not even her—and, by Requiem’s grace and Vayu’s mercy, he would be happy because she wasn’t in pain.

Everyone else, Lucia thought, considered her pain days an inconvenience to their dinner plans.

template by orion

[b. shadowmend]

i would rather die than let you go

juliet to your romeo

"Lucia!" Branwen's voice cut through the air, followed by the sound of heavy pawsteps muffled by snow as her large paws beat against the ground, her excitement upon finding her beloved friend ever unwavering. It seemed as if she didn't notice the miserable expression upon the cabbit's face until the last second, whence she came to a slow stop beside the smaller creature's slow-trodding body.

Bad pain day, huh? She winced internally, but resolved not to bring it up. She didn't want Lucia to think she pitied her, but she also didn't want to be insensitive either; a delicate balancing act, if you will. Or, perhaps, she should simply stop overthinking it... Which seemed like a better option, maybe.

"You want me to carry that for ya?" she offered, motioning her head vaguely towards the bag of clams and mussels. She was bigger and stronger than Lucia, after all; and, to be honest, she was more inclined to offer to carry the cabbit herself, if only for the innate fear of offending her friend.

[LUCIA S]

(i can’’t be saved) reaching for the life I threw away

watching as it circles in the drain

One of the cabbit’s long ears swiveled to Branwen. A few beats later, Lucia swiveled her neck to properly look at her friend. Another moment for her miserable expression to fade into a slight smile. However, the stress in her posture and the heaviness in her pink eyes didn’t fade.

“That’d be a huge help.” Lucia twisted to her left, then bit the buckle to undo the strap. When the belt keeping the net tethered to her waist dropped away, so too did the agony in her abdomen decrease. She really needed to figure out a better way to tether the net to her body while swimming, while walking back.

Now that a considerable source of strain was removed, the cabbit sighed and shook out her paws properly. Then batted, with a paw, at each of her long ears. When she’d first arrived in the congregation, it’d taken her a while to get used to the frigid waters and the near-hypothermia symptoms. But she’d adapted. She was proud of adapting.

Was this an acceptable way to live? Was it really better here? No, she’d made her choice; she couldn’t go back to Meteor.

Lucia grinned at Branwen. Her teeth still chattered. Her abdomen still throbbed. But, by the gods, the pain would be there no matter what she did, why not live?

“Ha, I feel better already with that weight off me!” Her grin widened. “Come on, you help me lug that home and you get second pick on the first portion of cooked shellfish. After me, of course. I grabbed the fuckers through ice cold and hellish pain.”

Her grin flickered with a bit of doubt. Advice from Vale echoed in her head: Psh, they call us antisocial… what are prosocials, if not happy to serve? Then words from Meteor: Antisocials are not defective. We’re born to lead the prosocials.

But she wasn’t so sure. She was more like a parasite, wasn’t she? A shameless, guiltless parasite.

template by orion

[Montgomery]

Montgomery knew he could only prolong Lucia's condition for so long, but how long? The archon needed his wife. As soon as she fell, so would he. Whether that was physically or mentally, he did not know. Until then, he prayed to Neandryne in hope of anything that could give him the spirit to continue on. He needed to provide for her, along with the rest of the congregants. While he wasn't their only hope, he believed it to be true. To him, the congregants needed him as much as he needed Lucia. If one was lost, the balance shifted and all would fall into chaos. 

He noticed that she did not swim this morning. She noticed that he had noticed. There was no denying that. Montgomery tried to push down his worries for her, but it was clear he was growing uneasy. Rather than burdening Lucia with his feelings, he said his goodbyes and stepped away. He slid her some medicine to help with the pain before leaving to set up for the meeting. The canine was unaware she only took half. If he had known, he would insisted she take the entire batch of herbs. Hell, he would even be a bit mad, but he couldn't stay frustrated with her. She was her own individual. While he would prefer her not to be in pain, he could also understand that her mentality was more important. After all, life was no fun in delirium, in pain or not.

The hard truth was one neither of them had swallowed yet. The couple continued forward anyways. After the meeting, the leader had some tasks to complete before returning to Lucia. He sped through them as quick as he could. The congregants who assisted noticed something was off, but kept their mouth shut. Montgomery was always a bit 'off' but this seemed different. Since the group was in distress, they figured he was too. He always kept too much of the burden on his back and the weight of the world on his shoulders. No wonder they said nothing, even after he walked away.

Dark paws hurried across the territory to meet her as fast as he could, but Branwen had already beat him to it. As the net slipped from her belt, he arrived. He wanted to chastise her for overworking herself, but stopped himself. She needed purpose, just like he did. If she could provide for the congregants and navigate the waters unlike yesterday, he would not stop her. It was a minor win in his book. 

Instead, he skipped forward, leaned down, and brushed his head against her chin. He did not care that she was somewhat wet. For all he cared, she could rub up against him all she wanted and drench him. His affection came to a momentary halt after a moment of contact. She was ice cold. With a frown, he turned around so they were side-by-side and lowered himself to the floor. "Hop up and get warm. Let us get you home," he urged. He tried to nudge at her side with his snout to urge her. "Branwen can carry the rest and I can cook, right?" He looked over at the other expectantly for confirmation. They would all do their part.

MONTGOMERY S. - ARCHON OF COG

[Grateful Mae]

Mae had been sitting off in a ticket when the hum of voices cut through the ringing din that usually plagued her ears. She couldn't make out what was being said, but through her cloudy sight, Mae could see a few figures walking and something exchanging hands. Truthfully, Mae had procrastinated on meeting the locals. She didn't like the questions... Where did you come from? Why do you talk like that? What happened to you? Are your parents alive?
Questions were for people who weren't smart enough to mind their own business.
Rising to her paws, Mae shook out the snow and the junk collecting on her fur from sitting in one place for so long. The juvenile fox slipped out between the branches, leaving tufts of fur behind, and arched her back in a big stretch. The buzz of her month wings against each other announced her arrival before she had ever spoken.
Mae couldn't make out faces until she had fallen into step with everyone, but she recognized no one in particular. Maybe she had seen that canine, but not the feline that had taken the load off the cabbit's shoulders before, but she really couldn't be certain. Voices and faces weren't her strong point; she had missed most of the conversation anyway. Why was she even here? It's not like anything else interesting ever happened around here.
Letting out a huffing breath of air in front of her nose to create a cloud of breath in the air, Mae watched it dissipate. "The dew point is high today," Mae commented, clearing her throat, and her gaze swung back to the small group, her expression unchanged. "Which means it will probably get cold tonight. Maybe windy. Probably should dry off and get inside, smaller creatures are more susceptible to hypothermia."

[w]isker

[LUCIA S]

(i can’’t be saved) reaching for the life I threw away

watching as it circles in the drain

The cabbit turned to Monty. Her smile wavered, and she blinked rapidly to keep her eyes from misting over. He was, perhaps, the only person in the world she didn’t have to uphold a strong facade for. And she never needed to ask him for help; he simply offered, without her needing to ask. By Requiem and Vayu, asking for help was impossible.

(Was that why she’d dated Meteor? Because he saw past her barriers? Monty was different; she'd let him see her.)

Lucia nodded to Monty. Her long ears lowered, and she attempted to headbutt his shoulder. “Alright. Sounds like teamwork to me.”

She wouldn’t have admitted this, but it was necessary that Monty had crouched down. She didn’t have the energy to jump. Swimming? Easy compared to jumping. In the water, her rear legs never had to carry her bodyweight. And jumping? Put more than four times the strain of her bodyweight on the joints. She’d read that in a textbook while trying to figure out why the agony of her pelvis interfered with certain exercises, didn’t interfere with others. Mysterious.

Now on Monty like a sack of potatoes—front legs and head dangling on his left shoulder, rear legs and tail on his right—Lucia exhaled. The tension slid out of her muscles. Let him carry her home. She had a nice warm nest of furs waiting for her to curl up in… then there’d be a hot meal with the fruits harvested from the River of Life.

All in all, not a bad evening for a pain day. By Requiem and Vayu, she didn’t want another pain day like yesterday. Please let that stay the worst of my life.

Then the cabbit glanced at Mae. She grinned. A fang carrying neurotoxins flashed from between her lips. “That’s excellent advice. Thanks for sharing your weather expertise.”

template by orion

[Montgomery]

She headbutted his shoulder in exchange for his loving brush against her chin and he smiled. "Teamwork, indeed," he reiterated back. 

The canine stiffened up as the cabbit's paws made contact with his back. She was ice cold. Hopefully, his body heat was of assistance.  He only loosened up again when she draped over his shoulder and relaxed herself. Montgomery pushed up from the floor with a huff and wavered on four paws momentarily before heading out towards the direction of camp. 

He peered over at Mae. Rather than nodding in agreement and risking any extra movement that would knock his wife off his back, he offered a grin. "You're right." Originally, he planned for them to meet in camp and eat there, but her insight made him change his mind. "We'll go home instead." The archon hoped Lucia would not protest to that, but her health was priority here and she should have every right to call the shots. "You are all free to join us for dinner if you desire." Montgomery thought it would be less trouble to have everyone gather in one spot and have Lucia rest in her nest while they cooked. A win for everyone.

If they followed after, so be it. In time, they would arrive at Montgomery's home. The archon pushed through first and lowered his body to the floor so he could crawl through the tunnel with Lucia on his back. When at the end, he barked for them to follow and held the second door open with his backside. The rest would be met with the sights of their home upon coming through. Their place was quite simple. It was nothing out of the ordinary for the Congregants, being lined in a wide variety of pelts to keep them warm. Even so, the house had it's charm. Besides their personal knick-knacks, Lucia had a pile of netting and swim gear for herself in one corner, while Montgomery had out of commission windchimes for repair in another. Together, they shared a space to cook that was hooked to the air vent at the top, but the archon was it's main user. They would be making use of it today.

Once everyone was inside, he maneuvered over towards their pile of pelts and lowered to the floor once again to let the cabbit down. He shimmed his back a bit, encouraging her to get off with a soft smile. "Rest a bit while we prepare the food," the canine pleaded.

MONTGOMERY S. - ARCHON OF COG

[LUCIA S]

(i can’’t be saved) reaching for the life I threw away

watching as it circles in the drain

“Home sounds nice.” Lucia sighed. Her eyes half-closed, and she watched the trees pass by as Monty carried her into the heart of the Congregants’ land.

The warmth of Monty seeped into her post-swim, near-hypothermia body. Her eyes slipped shut.

Startled, she blinked when her body lurched. Took her half a second to realize Monty had to adjust his walk to a crouch in order to slip through the tunnel. Once she figured that out—and, then, the auxiliary fact that she’d drifted asleep—Lucia’s tension dissolved into relaxation. By Requiem and Vayu (no, Neandryne!) she’d pushed herself too far today, hadn’t she?

Lucia slipped into the pile of rabbit furs and soft pelts. Her bright blue fur—a visible mutation warning of her mutated neurotoxin fangs, she’d always assumed—stuck out against the white, tan, and speckled rabbit pelts. If she was to act like a rabbit in the Congregants of Genesis, at least she was surrounded by the soft and warmth of that camouflage. She snuggled beneath the covers.

Good thing she’d dried off completely already. She’d hate to ruin her bed.

“I’ll rest.” She looked up to Monty and nodded. She didn’t have to fake the yawn. By the gods (all of them), she was tired.

template by orion