[ close isn't bad, at least when it comes to flayn. now that things have settled yin yu has disappeared on and off in the afternoon, but he finds his way back to flayn to complete the task they started the day before. he hasn't taken his mask off once since saturday evening, and that hasn't changed now--it's a security blanket--but otherwise, he looks much the same as ever as he approaches flayn.
...except, he's got a couple of things in his arms. a small handful of kindling, a little stone, and maybe the most curiously, a small pile of brightly colored papers.
he bows his head as he approaches and adjusts his armful of objects to take the bouquet from her properly, a quiet greeting as he turns to look at the memorial hall, properly. ] ...This is the first time I've been here.
I have been here once before. [just the once, to place the flowers - and she hadn't lingered for long.] ...it is a little unsettling.
[the clay figures are, anyway. empty eyes, mouths open... she can't help but think they look almost like they're screaming at something they can't see. it's unfortunately apt, given that the figures exist only for those who have died so far.
she casts a curious glance at the papers yin yu is already carrying, and passes some of the flowers over to him.]
...did you bring something, for rites for the dead?
[she remembers, on the island. he would oversee the rites, and she would create a memorial. this isn't how she'd wanted that agreement to turn out.]
I did. [ here they are again, second verse same as the first. the mechanical aspect of it is so familiar that it makes things a bit easier--back then, digging graves had been automatic, a job he could do that no one else really could. he was so easily able to stop himself from feeling anything then, because the bodies that needed to be buried were not ones he was connected to, because... he wasn't a connected person. a nobody could do the dirty jobs no one else wanted to do, as he does working for the ghost king, slip in and out of presence like it's nothing. the second week had been different--but even then, he'd made himself be hollow and did what needed to be done. (now, if the same thing were to happen, he's not sure he'd be able to do the same.)
yin yu looks up at the door to the hall. it feels ominous--death surrounds him on the daily, but the last time he can really remember this feeling, the one that gnaws at his bones and rattles the cage he forced it into, it was when he stood with hua cheng performing these same rites for jian yu. ]
It was something I was unable to do on the island--it is a common custom to burn paper money for the dead, for them to use. [ it's common in ghost city, where the ghosts get their spending money. ] I doubt it will do much of anything, but...
[ it's the right thing to do. sure enough, when he turns his hand, the papers have a little writing on them. it's all he could really find. ]
[yin yu, you're talking to a girl whose homeland uses gold pieces for currency. she seems puzzled by the idea, but she nods to herself - different places have different customs. and especially for a world like his, where ghosts don't quite live again, but still exist...
well, they would have need of it, wouldn't they?]
I am sure they would appreciate it, if they knew. [she tries for a very small smile.] Perhaps they do. They... did say that they could see the camp.
[ it's a bit hard to explain that concept when they are in mourning but maybe later.
yin yu nods his head. his face is still hidden, but, there's a little smile on his face there, too. it's not much, but... normalcy is easier, hours later. ] I suppose it's the thought that counts.
[ with that, he nods, and goes to pull open the door for her with his free hand. ]
[she doesn't much like acknowledging her death on the island - but it had meant a lot to her, that he'd tried to remember her. it still does.
with the door open, though, there's no avoiding it. it's a small, cramped space - and it's quiet. when the two of them step into the room, their footsteps are loud against the floor. the lighting here is dimmer, with the candles, but it's easy enough to spot the display cases that have flowers on them from the previous week.
the faint scent of incense is a little distracting, but there isn't much they can do about that.
she goes first to clear off the older - now-wilting - flowers, gathering them up into her arms. she can press them between the pages of a book to preserve them, maybe... if she can get her hands on a book. she'll think about it later.
for now, tidying up, so the space will be clean before they add something new.]
[ the incense is nice, actually--it's familiar. a proper offering in his homeland would always include such things, too. setting his small pack down, yin yu moves to follow flayn, gathering older flowers from tsurumaru and evan's markers, as well. the dolls that sit in their place are... odd, but, he pays them little mind, paying careful attention to the flowers, instead.
he's gentle enough with them not to disturb the petals, or the leaves, as he lifts them to set aside. the silence isn't too bad, either, a moment of calm reflection as he dusts the top of each display case briefly, to make sure it will be just as clean. it's like tending to a shrine, something yin yu hasn't done in a long time, but something that's practically burned into his bones.
he's fine to be in the quiet, for now, as he places the first of the bouquets down. they are lovely; the flowers bring a since fo color to the fairly dingy room. ]
[it's similar to tending to the altar at the cathedral, or even to the statues of the saints - not that flayn does much work with the statues themselves. but it's a good thing, to make a space clean and ready for others to use.
with the wilted flowers tucked carefully into the crook of her arm, she returns to yin yu's side and watches as he places the first bouquet.
[ stepping back, he moves to look at his work, and then at flayn.
something in him softens, and, yin yu dips his head, his tone solemn and serious. ] It is truly my honor. [ as it was on the island, too. it is a morbid thing to bond over, maybe, but... they're in a morbid situation.
everyone has to do what they can. ] ...Thank you for allowing me to help.
[allowing, huh. flayn can't imagine not letting yin yu help with this if he wanted to - there's really nothing to allow. but perhaps he is simply referring to her asking him to join her in the first place.
there is a slight pause, and she reaches out, her fingers brushing lightly against his. she doesn't quite take his hand, but she's testing the waters.]
...this is a task that weighs heavily on me, but - it is easier, with you here.
wow i saw the typos in the tag before the last one ... *sense of
[ the brush of flayn's hand against his is starting to become something familiar, the tiniest crack in his armor that's developed over the past few weeks. at the execution, he hadn't turned it away, taking the lifeline for what it was. outward emotion and reactions are all things he tries to avoid, keeping a lid on the surprisingly emotional person underneath, because when he loses even an ounce of that control, bad things happen. it's just a fact of life.
but this doesn't feel so scary. time after time, it's been something to reach back out for. maybe, eventually, he'll be the first one to reach, too, but, when flayn's hand bumps his, he shifts to link their index fingers together, letting the rest fall in place. after all of that, yin yu's not sure if he has the ability to do much more.
but it's enough. he stays like that for a moment, looking at the display cases. ] ...I think so, too.
[ back at the island, he'd been touched by flayn's kindness. death, memorial - these were things that were important to him, because it was the very foundation of his life, now. he'd seen spirits forgotten or trapped more times than he could count, resentful because of their deaths or that no one loved them.
that hasn't changed. ] It's not much that we can do, but I'm glad this is here. [ i'm glad you're here, goes unsaid, but it's lingering there, too. ]
[i'm glad you're here too - neither one of them has to say it to know it, at this point. even flayn can recognize that it's a little easier to breathe when yin yu is with her. she isn't sure when it started happening, but she's more grateful for it than she has the words to express.
she hopes her being there does him even half as much good as his presence does her.
her hand stays in his as she sweeps her gaze over the display cases and the flowers that have been placed there. it's possible the dead will never even look here, as they're watching the camp - but she hopes, if they do, that they'll take some small measure of comfort from knowing that they haven't been forgotten.]
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fishingforcompliments) wrote2020-06-06 12:53 pm
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...except, he's got a couple of things in his arms. a small handful of kindling, a little stone, and maybe the most curiously, a small pile of brightly colored papers.
he bows his head as he approaches and adjusts his armful of objects to take the bouquet from her properly, a quiet greeting as he turns to look at the memorial hall, properly. ] ...This is the first time I've been here.
no subject
[the clay figures are, anyway. empty eyes, mouths open... she can't help but think they look almost like they're screaming at something they can't see. it's unfortunately apt, given that the figures exist only for those who have died so far.
she casts a curious glance at the papers yin yu is already carrying, and passes some of the flowers over to him.]
...did you bring something, for rites for the dead?
[she remembers, on the island. he would oversee the rites, and she would create a memorial. this isn't how she'd wanted that agreement to turn out.]
no subject
yin yu looks up at the door to the hall. it feels ominous--death surrounds him on the daily, but the last time he can really remember this feeling, the one that gnaws at his bones and rattles the cage he forced it into, it was when he stood with hua cheng performing these same rites for jian yu. ]
It was something I was unable to do on the island--it is a common custom to burn paper money for the dead, for them to use. [ it's common in ghost city, where the ghosts get their spending money. ] I doubt it will do much of anything, but...
[ it's the right thing to do. sure enough, when he turns his hand, the papers have a little writing on them. it's all he could really find. ]
no subject
[yin yu, you're talking to a girl whose homeland uses gold pieces for currency. she seems puzzled by the idea, but she nods to herself - different places have different customs. and especially for a world like his, where ghosts don't quite live again, but still exist...
well, they would have need of it, wouldn't they?]
I am sure they would appreciate it, if they knew. [she tries for a very small smile.] Perhaps they do. They... did say that they could see the camp.
no subject
yin yu nods his head. his face is still hidden, but, there's a little smile on his face there, too. it's not much, but... normalcy is easier, hours later. ] I suppose it's the thought that counts.
[ with that, he nods, and goes to pull open the door for her with his free hand. ]
no subject
[she doesn't much like acknowledging her death on the island - but it had meant a lot to her, that he'd tried to remember her. it still does.
with the door open, though, there's no avoiding it. it's a small, cramped space - and it's quiet. when the two of them step into the room, their footsteps are loud against the floor. the lighting here is dimmer, with the candles, but it's easy enough to spot the display cases that have flowers on them from the previous week.
the faint scent of incense is a little distracting, but there isn't much they can do about that.
she goes first to clear off the older - now-wilting - flowers, gathering them up into her arms. she can press them between the pages of a book to preserve them, maybe... if she can get her hands on a book. she'll think about it later.
for now, tidying up, so the space will be clean before they add something new.]
no subject
he's gentle enough with them not to disturb the petals, or the leaves, as he lifts them to set aside. the silence isn't too bad, either, a moment of calm reflection as he dusts the top of each display case briefly, to make sure it will be just as clean. it's like tending to a shrine, something yin yu hasn't done in a long time, but something that's practically burned into his bones.
he's fine to be in the quiet, for now, as he places the first of the bouquets down. they are lovely; the flowers bring a since fo color to the fairly dingy room. ]
no subject
with the wilted flowers tucked carefully into the crook of her arm, she returns to yin yu's side and watches as he places the first bouquet.
after a moment, she speaks.]
...thank you, for helping me with this.
no subject
something in him softens, and, yin yu dips his head, his tone solemn and serious. ] It is truly my honor. [ as it was on the island, too. it is a morbid thing to bond over, maybe, but... they're in a morbid situation.
everyone has to do what they can. ] ...Thank you for allowing me to help.
no subject
there is a slight pause, and she reaches out, her fingers brushing lightly against his. she doesn't quite take his hand, but she's testing the waters.]
...this is a task that weighs heavily on me, but - it is easier, with you here.
wow i saw the typos in the tag before the last one ... *sense of
but this doesn't feel so scary. time after time, it's been something to reach back out for. maybe, eventually, he'll be the first one to reach, too, but, when flayn's hand bumps his, he shifts to link their index fingers together, letting the rest fall in place. after all of that, yin yu's not sure if he has the ability to do much more.
but it's enough. he stays like that for a moment, looking at the display cases. ] ...I think so, too.
[ back at the island, he'd been touched by flayn's kindness. death, memorial - these were things that were important to him, because it was the very foundation of his life, now. he'd seen spirits forgotten or trapped more times than he could count, resentful because of their deaths or that no one loved them.
that hasn't changed. ] It's not much that we can do, but I'm glad this is here. [ i'm glad you're here, goes unsaid, but it's lingering there, too. ]
me, a fool: ...there was a typo???
[i'm glad you're here too - neither one of them has to say it to know it, at this point. even flayn can recognize that it's a little easier to breathe when yin yu is with her. she isn't sure when it started happening, but she's more grateful for it than she has the words to express.
she hopes her being there does him even half as much good as his presence does her.
her hand stays in his as she sweeps her gaze over the display cases and the flowers that have been placed there. it's possible the dead will never even look here, as they're watching the camp - but she hopes, if they do, that they'll take some small measure of comfort from knowing that they haven't been forgotten.]