warriorscribe | Snowblind Inbox

... You thought it would be better that way.

[Flynn speaks into the pause then falls silent when Enoch picks up again.]

The cult? What do you mean, are you talking about the creepy death office jail with the murder basement? [Not the most eloquent way of putting it – and maybe not good timing – but Flynn has a very visceral reaction to that place that makes controlling his words a bit... difficult.]

If only it had only been murder. [Bitter, choked, probably everything Flynn expects. He remembers the crushing pain and the thread of hope he found in being encouraged to reach out to a friend. He also "remembers" the guilt never ending, spiraling into the worst.]

But...you weren't here, when- oh no, did you remember being here for it?

[There is a pause before Flynn answers. This isn't a direction he had wanted to take here.]

Yes, I do. But it's okay, it wasn't as bad, nothing really happened to me.

[He's pretty sure this means Flynn was trapped on the handle side of the scalpel. Even when they were never there, this place manages to force that event on people...]

Technically speaking, nothing happened to me, either. But it did. If you were- ...made to be one of them, like I was, that isn't really "nothing". And not being as bad doesn't- doesn't make it nothing, either.

[His breath keeps trying to come too short and he's stubbornly trying to keep control of it. It only serves to highlight his distress, rather than hide it. It may have been a month ago, but it's still a very raw spot, recently made worse by the knowledge of what it could have done to him.]

No-- no, Enoch, I wasn't, I... really, I'm okay. I don't have any memories of... the town didn't give me any memories of what happened down there. Just of being there and attempts to escape. It was freaky and horrible but... I'm fine.

I'm just very sorry you guys had to go through all this. I... saw the rooms.

It's easily the worst that-...

[Why is he rambling on at Flynn about this? Too much has been happening lately. Some days he's better, even well, but this is apparently not one of them.]

...I'm sorry.

Were you... [He clears his throat, unsure, wanting to tread lightly.]

Did they do that brainwashing thing on you?

They did. I assumed- well, you too, when you said nothing really happened. It was common to hear. Or think, immediately after, even if I was aware...

[He swallows his own words again, partly out of guilt for...what, exactly? He doesn't know anymore, just that it hurts him just as much as if he knew why it did.]

...I'm sorry you were any part of that.

Not being yourself, that must be scary. [He can only imagine how Wilson must feel now. Maybe he should check in with him too, see how he's doing, but the thought makes him want to curl up under his blanket and not move for a couple of hours.]

Yeah, me too. Any of us, really, that's just... it's just so wrong.

To say I wasn't myself is too simple, that's- that's what made it so-

[How many times has he decided he's going to stop talking about this? He cuts himself off again with a shake of his head.]

...I hope this town will stop reminding us of it.

Me too.

Or keep adding to the pile.

That's a farther-fetched thing to hope for, I'm afraid. Ten months, and with each one at least one new horror. For that...I think it's best to hope we put a stop to them, rather than the town deciding to be kind for a change.

[With the machines in their bodies, their veins, their brains degrading...it's not likely to get better on its own. He has no idea how to possibly do anything about that, though, and Winter had no suggestions when he asked.]

I guess that works, too. [Flynn isn't ready to give up hope that maybe at some point things do get better, but he won't blame Enoch for not doing so, either. After all, the man has been here a considerably longer time than Flynn and arguing against that feels... arrogant at best.]

... What do you want to do first? When we get out of here, I mean.

I don't know.

[It comes too easily. After this place... He's not even sure he can go back where he came from anymore. If there's anything for him there, really.]

I suppose that depends on where I go. Sharing a hot meal with my companions sounds wonderful.

[There were already pancakes, but...something more substantial. Something that didn't involve days of trekking through snow and dark tunnels and hoping nothing tried to chase you down along the way.]

I suspect that's an easy answer, however. What would you do?

Ordering tons of the junkiest junk food delivery to the Library and then spend all day there reading.

And then go to the botanic garden and look at all the green.

And then go have coffee with my Mom, in the sun, in a t-shirt.

The sun... Hm. If it's warm enough I could sunbathe for a while. But I'm tired of this sun that won't set here. After I'm done with that, I think I'd stargaze. A clear night sky. Cold, perhaps, but not deathly so. No danger beyond too-curious wildlife, easily discouraged.

That sounds nice. I think that's a great plan, Enoch.

[So was the subject, apparently, because Flynn's voice calms and warms considerably. It's probably important to talk about the nice thoughts, too, once in a while.]

[And that does wonders to his demeanor. Yes, nice thoughts, that's a good subject.]

Yours as well. Tell me about this garden you mentioned. It sounded as if you had a specific one in mind.

Well, I don't... Maybe. There's the botanic garden of the university? It's big and beautiful and excellently curated. They have a lot of rare specimen there and new ones tend to come in depending on the projects they're having. Really, you have plants and flowers from all over the world, ferns from South-East Asia, orchids from Hawaii, wild shrubs from Mongolia...

[He might go a little into rhapsodies over this.]

I actually helped look after some of them for a while, when I was getting my botany degree.

That's incredible. How- surely they can't all grow in the same soil?

Oh no, they all have their own section. The more delicate ones are kept in little greenhouses which simulate an accurate climate?

Plants from anywhere, grown anywhere, with the right care. I spent most of my mortal life and a good deal of my immortal one tending crops...learning what needed to be traded where it couldn't be grown. To think of a time when we could just trade the seeds, where no one would need to worry about the yield spoiling on the journey because of some delay or another...

Oh hey, so you know your stuff. It's pretty great, isn't it? Maybe I can show it to you sometime!

Apparently, only a fraction of the... stuff I could know. [He can't help but grin a little - this conversation is nice now.]

If we can arrange something like it, I would be glad to.

[Oh thank God. This is much better and Flynn relaxes, now that they both have their footing back.]

It's a deal. I'll give you the grand tour.

Snowblind Inbox

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject