logs | off she goes ✨ november catch all

[ In the weirdest of ways, even though she doesn't know anything about Dimitri, she feels her most comfortable beside him. Maybe it's because she was literally in his body and the fact she knows how great his lungs felt.. Or maybe it's because he was literally in hers, fully understanding just how terrible her own was.

..Is, she corrects herself, when her tongue runs over her teeth and she tastes copper. It feels nice, having that odd understanding between them and being able to ask for guidance. It's why she worked so hard to gather everything she's taken so far to mitigate her symptoms, all her findings out on the table. The ones that taste like bubblegum are in their own category, the shittier ones the opposite direction. And the mystery potions are situated in the middle.

Still, it is chaos. But not to her eyes, at least. She grabs a flask, one with a blue colored liquid sloshing in it. ]

That's because it just.. Doesn't exist. Stuff like this comes from bored people on the internet.

[ She forgets if he knows what the internet is or not, but she doesn't care. Just grabs a little shot glass and pours the liquid out right under the brim. ]

But.. I think there is. Some of the stuff I've been taking slows down whatever is happening inside me. [ She explains, rubbing at her eyes beneath her glasses. The glass is handed gently towards him, ] I can still feel it, though.. Like, growing.

[ It's always easier to open up when someone takes the first step, giving a little. And in their case, that first push was an outright shove, one neither had invited. But now that there's no headless murdering horseman chasing after them, it's... nice. In its own way. He doesn't have to admit his own deficiencies, the aches of old battles and stiff scars, the way some of his senses are dulled. There's still some secrecy in not laying out explanations for it all—he doesn't know why she breaks out into hives or anything—but the latent understanding is a comfort.

Even if he still doesn't totally understand. He doesn't know what an internet is. If only he also inherited her pop culture knowledge. He eyes the flask she's plucked up before he takes the... shot glass. lottie why this glassware ]

Mm. Growing is a good way to put it.

[ Terrible as that is. He takes a little sip. It smells slightly chemical, even if it tastes like nothing to him. ]

I hope it hasn't caused you too much pain, at least. [ her lungs already seemed kind of. broken. ] You seem to be taking it in stride. As much as one can, anyway.

[ She frowns when she sees him take a sip. Her hand gently guides the glass further towards his lips, as if insisting down it, take the whole thing. A full glass of water is nearby for this express purpose!! ]

I'm constantly on something 24/7.

[ Lottie supplies, opting to not lie and tell him it hasn't caused her too much pain.. Because, well, it has. There's no way around the fact that her throat is always unbearably sore and it hurts to breathe a little too fast, a little to eagerly. She figures he can guess the extent of the damage having a garden grow inside her has already done, after all. ]

I'm used to being on some kind of medication so this is pretty normal for me.. Not the flower stuff, obviously. [ She admits rather reluctantly, ] Warm water has definitely been helping.. Humidifier. Soups. Broths. Anything that gets your nose runny..

[ Bossy... It's sort of novel being told what to do when he's been ruling a nation for years, though. So when prompted, he drinks the rest down smoothly (if there's any benefit to ageusia, it's not needing a chaser with bitter medicine), wondering absently what this tonic even does.

At least Lottie seems to know what she's doing, though he's not sure that's a good thing. He sets the glass down with a quiet clink, looking concerned. ]

Are you ill... constantly?

[ The flowers he can understand; there's no need to explain how uncomfortable it is when something pricks inside of you like thorns, the uncomfortable pressure of leaves and petals building up until they're coughed up. But he's usually healthy otherwise. And he doesn't know what the science of an allergy is. His world probably still thinks it's a random fun quirky weakness of the human body. ]

[ This is Not the Flex It Should Sound Like And Yet ]

I mean...

[ She gives a wave of her hand, half because she doesn't want him to know the extent of her troubles and half because.. Well, there's no point in lying and saying no when it comes to him. She can say she's healthy all she wants, but he was physically there. Inside her (not like that). And she knows for a fact he understands what living normally is like.. ]

I mean yeah.. Not on purpose. It's just.. How I am? [ Ugh, this is so.. Weird. To explain. Especially since she doesn't want to say the "A" word (allergies). This must all sound weird and avoidant, or mystical.. One of the two! ] A lot of it is conditional on weather.. Or what I eat. Sometimes how I feel.. Like those hives you got.

[ He was inside her (not like that), and vice versa. So he understands it a little, even if the explanation is a little vague, and even if he doesn't get the science behind it. ]

Ah, the itchy patches... [ Those did seem stress-induced, though he had trouble pinpointing it in the moment. ] Is it a curse?

[ Some people call the flowers some sort of ill omened magic, rather than a blight. It's hard to say with her condition, and the way she talks about it. He reaches to get her a glass to pour her some of the tonic as well. ] Or more like a sickness, perhaps?

[ She is desperately holding in the shocked and surprised laugh that desperately wants to burst through her lips. A curse? A curse?? God, she's wondered that so much herself that it almost feels nice having someone suggest it first. Like a breath of fresh air. ]

The second one.. But it, uh, kinda feels like the first.

[ She admits, reaching for the poured glass and simply holding it. ]

Are curses real where you're from?

[ What's easier to heal, a curse or allergies? Maybe the latter is less malicious, but they're also lifelong ailments, and just as disabling. Maybe the lack of intent makes it worse, really—to just have to suffer for no real reason at all.

Life's a bitch like that!! ]

Dark magic exists, yes. They're certainly real here as well. Some have called the very illness we suffer now a curse.

[ A pause. And then, as though to pre-empt any alarm, ]

Though—most magic can be dispelled. Eventually.

[ She stares at him, not sure how she feels attributing the word 'curse' to something she's called 'a weird ass alien disease'. It certainly doesn't make her feel any better about her odds of surviving this, being allergic to the very things growing inside her. But she eventually settles on: ]

Good.

[ Eventually is better than nothing!! She finally takes that swig of the glass he poured for her, forcing it down her throat and scrunching her face all the while. She may be used to taking medicine, but it doesn't mean that she particularly likes it. Lottie leans over the table and reaches for some water, ]

Dying like this would blow.

off she goes ✨ november catch all

SLAYYY

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject