It's fun having a lot of people around for a sleepover, but sometimes it's nice just to spend time with one other person, you know? So it can just be us for now! And then if you decide you want more people over, we can always have a bigger sleepover next time.
[ The fact that there might not be a next time, that something might happen to either of them between now and three days from now, never even crosses her mind. ]
But I can definitely bring blankets and pillows! There's nothing like falling asleep under a pile of blankets as snug as a bug in a rug.
[ When will someone teach her the phrase 'blanket burrito'.....Anyway. ]
Lys makes tight fists of her hands, her sensible nails cutting into the meat of her palms. Is it possible to break bones this way? To keep squeezing and squeezing with blasphemous strength until her fingers shattered? She doesn't know, but for a few ugly moments, the promised pain seems almost worth it. Anything to kill these selfish impulses before they could grow from thought to action, demanding more from Annette than Lys deserved to have.
At any other time she'd be distracted by how stupid of a phrase "snug as a bug in a rug" truly was, but today it hardly registers.]
tomorrow, maybe? if that's okay i know it's pretty last minute and i bet you're super busy
[She can't imagine Annette, someone so cute and sweet and wonderful and good, having much of an open schedule. Or maybe that's just her wounded subconscious talking, trying to safeguard against disappointment by preemptively assuming the worst.]
[ Hahaha…..busy on sex island. Annette grimaces a little at that, if only because she truly would like to be busy in a nice normal way and not in the encouraged raunchy way that the native robots are always pushing her towards. ]
I'm not really that busy...but even if I was busy I would make time for you!
[ If Lys wanted her over tonight, she'd find a way to make it happen. ]
So tomorrow is perfect. I'll make sure to bring lots of extra blankets and pillows. Maybe I'll try baking something too.
[ Because it's always good to have extra snacks on hand. ]
["...but even if I was busy, I would make time for you!"
Lys stares at those words for a full minute. Two minutes. Three. In her mind, so clearly that it's almost audible, she hears Anja's voice calling her a leech and a parasite, a glue trap in human form. That her big blue eyes and pathetic smile weren't good for anything except playing on another's pity—a sundew's sticky trap that lured in the tender-hearted and then digested them a piece at a time, devouring sympathy and patience and kindness until nothing remained.
She hears 6O's voice telling Lys that she loved her.
She hears Ema's voice bluntly praising her for working so hard at their lessons.
She hears Annette's voice calling her amazing, and just as smart as everyone else, and many other things.
....
Her fingers begin to move again, playing over the holographic keyboard.]
that sounds good to me i bet anything you bake will be great i'll handle the ice cream and games and everything else
come over whenever and don't worry about knocking you're always welcome, annette
I don't know about that...though I don't burn everything on the first try anymore so that's an improvement.
[ Progress...tiny baby steps towards one day achieving perfectly fluffy muffins on the first go instead of the third. ]
Also I would still knock!! That's just rude not to.
[ And okay, maybe it would be like a knock one second before she shoves open the door and barges in, but the knock would still be there. She's not a heathen!! ]
[Mission accomplished...which leaves Lys with about a day and a half to kill. She has no appetite for eating or cooking, no drive to go hunting and fishing, no itch to take a strenuous hike all over the island in a bid to outpace her painful emotions. And there was no way she could sit down to meditate just yet. Settling her nerves would have to wait.
Instead Lys walks over to the coffeetable and pulls it away from the couch. Goes into the two spare bedrooms and drags out the mattresses she kept sheeted and clean for guests who never came. (“Guests” like Adora and 6O had always spent the night in her own bed, curled up in her arms.) She pushes each one into the gap, arranging and rearranging until they’re snug against each other and the base of the couch, then covers them both in blankets and pillows and the odd scavenged stuffed animal. Everything that common sense tells her would make for a cozy bed nest, until...yes. Yes, that looked about right. The mattresses were big enough to make sprawling out easy and the couch was right there in case Annette was unwilling to share. They could eat off the coffeetable without needing to get up and move or worry about falling asleep in a pile of crumbs.
It looked about right, and yet it felt strange. Would she have ever asked Annette for something like this if 6O hadn’t disappeared? Why not? Because Annette looked so much like Anja except in her eyes and the softer lines of her face, the emotions that shone out of both like warm sunlight? Or because Lys was still a coward? Content to hang in the middle, coming at life from a tilted angle, moving with the currents around her because it was easier than swimming against the tide.
…...
She ends up sleeping in the bed nest that night, breathing in the clean scents of detergent and fabric softener instead of the fading traces of 6O’s strange mix of metal and flowers. It helps. And when Annette evenually turns up, there’s a fire roaring in the fireplace and snacks laid out on the coffeetable: a bag of pretzels, a bag of chips, a gallon of ice cream left out to soften, a cakebox. Plates and bowls and cutlery and napkins. A pack of cards and a few battered board games: Scrabble, Jenga, Connect 4.
(Did she spend all her credits getting those? Who knows.)
And deep, dark hollows under her eyes, purple-black smudges like fresh bruises.]
[ The biggest problem to the sleepover, Annette is beginning to realize, is that she has no good way of transporting all her various goods and things over to Lys's place with just her own two hands. There's that mountain of her blankets over there, a small table's worth of desserts on the counter in front of her, and then there's a small stack of (non-raunchy!) books she'd grabbed from the library, just in case Lys wanted to do some kind of read-a-thon.
In the end, after a good ten minutes of brainstorming, she comes up with the perfect plan. Which is….well, Lys will probably see it if she peeps out her window at any point during the five minutes right before Annette shows up at her door. And if she doesn't….well, she'll certainly get a good eyeful whenever she opens the door after a very insistent knock. ]
Hi Lys!
[ There stands Annette, beaming brightly, with a small army of robots behind her, their little metallic arms filled to the brim with all of her things. ]
Sorry, I couldn't think of a way to bring everything over by myself…
[ She may or may not have had to convince the robots that this was all for a romantic and intimate night out. One of the robots may or may not make this evident by beeping out a loud: ]
WE ADVISE FEWER LAYERS RATHER THAN MORE FOR AN OPTIMIZED EVENING FILLED WITH ENTHUSIASTIC INTERCOURSE.
[ Please don't mind Annette as her face turns beet red. ]
[Halfway through setting up the Jenga tower, brow furrowed and tongue out as she concentrates on stacking up the little wooden blocks just so, Lys glances up at the sound of knocking. Heaves herself up and out of the bed nest, over to the door, opening it and...staring. Can’t seem to stop staring once Annette finishes talking and the robots finally shut up, blue eyes so wide that they fill her entire face. Her mother had always told her that staring was rude and not to do it, but Lys can’t help it. All those shiny chromium faces beaming up at her in delighted concert—Annette looking like she wanted nothing more than to dig a hole in the earth and jump inside it—the sheer absurdity of it all. So hilariously out of place in her simple home. So oddly bright and somehow refreshing, a taste of something that wasn’t heartache and insomnia and loneliness.
Lys can’t help but laugh. Deep, genuine, just a little too loud, the sound bursts out of her like water from a breaking dam, rumbling through her whole body as it rolls up from the pit of her stomach. She's breathing hard by the time she stops, wiping away tears of mirth (and nothing else, honest) from the corners of both eyes. Can’t remember the last time she’d laughed so hard, or maybe just so desperately; doesn’t care either way.]
I, uh...I mean, we appreciate the advice, but I think we know what we're doing. Right, Annette?
[She can't muster up a wink to show that she’s playing along, even a small one, but she does manage a sheepish smile. Feeling a little better—lighter, somehow cleaner—Lys walks over to the nearest robot and politely relieves them of their burden (some of the books, miraculously enough), nodding toward the living room and kitchen.]
The sooner you guys help us get settled in, though, the sooner we can get started.
She should be deeply mortified by the laughter - and is a little bit, the tips of her ears reddening along with the rest of her - but this is Lys, who has never said anything mean-spirited to her in the time they've known each other. Who has always been thoughtful and supportive and present for her, unlike certain other people she could name.
So Annette buries the worst of her embarrassment and lets out a weak laugh of her own, able to recognize the absurdity of the whole situation. ]
...Right.
[ The robots, empty-headed as they are, believe in Lys wholeheartedly and follow behind, placing down food and blankets and such wherever they're ordered to. It's not until they leave (and Lys's place is 50% more crowded than before) that Annette speaks up again, sheepish. ]
Thanks for inviting me over, Lys. Sorry you had to deal with that. I promise I'll figure out something better next time.
[ Because there's obviously going to be a next time, right? ]
It's fine, it's fine! I'm just glad you thought to ask for help instead of trying to carry all this stuff yourself.
[The reassurance comes easily as Lys flops back on the bed nest, tossing some of the extra blankets on the couch to spread them out more evenly. Then she snags one of the books Annette had brought, paging it open without glancing at the cover.]
Sorry for laughing, by the way. It wasn't at you. Just... [She trails off, still smiling, flipping through the book too fast to read it, wanting only to have something to do with hands while her brain scoured for the right words. Coming up empty, she shrugs and puts the book down again.] It was really funny, the way they were looking at us. I don't know how else to say it.
[And she wasn't going to admit that she'd really needed a laugh. It would just invite too many questions that Lys didn't want to answer and would feel bad for avoiding, knowing that Annette would only ask them—if she did ask them—out of kindness.]
Next time, though, I don't mind helping. If you still want to come over here, I mean.
[ The words of reassurance are welcome, even if by the time they've gotten everything settled they're largely unncessary. Annette flashes Lys a bright smile, the last vestiges of her uncertainty melting away. ]
I know. You wouldn't laugh at someone like that. [ This is what Annette firmly believes, at least, and will continue to believe until proven otherwise. ] And it was kind of funny, wasn't it...
[ Everything's funnier in hindsight, or something like that. Regardless, she's already moving on, plopping herself on the nearest pile of pillows and blankets before craning her neck to peer up at Lys. ]
And of course I want to come over! I'm always happy to see you and spend time with you, Lys. It doesn't have to be for anything special too, I don't mind just hanging out, though of course we should definitely see each other on days like holidays and birthdays and stuff like that.
[ Her little brain is already racing with plans for the future...someone stop her. ]
[Still smiling, Lys doesn't quite meet the other girl's eyes, gaze sliding away to consider the half-finished Jenga tower instead. Annette's—affection? trust? Lys settles for friendship—makes her feel better, soothes the heartache and raw nerves that 6O's sudden disappearance has left her with. But that same friendship, now more cherished than ever, perversely feels all the more fragile, like a single candle that could be snuffed out by a random wind. Not because Annette's feelings might change, but because Annette might leave. Like 6O had left...
If only there was a way to clutch that solace close without opening her heart fully to it.]
Yeah, of course. That sounds like a lot of fun. [Fingers drumming on her thighs for a moment, Lys goes back to working on the Jenga tower, stacking up the tiny blocks.] ...when is your birthday, by the way?
[ Lys might not be subtle but Annette has no qualms about oversharing at even the smallest provocation. Her eyes light up - because birthdays are exciting and fun - and she happily answers without even the slightest hesitation, gaze wandering around the familiar interior of Lys's place without really taking anything in. ]
It's on the 9th day of Harpstring Moon! [ That's.....May 9th, in normal people speak. ] But since there's not really any sort of calendar here, it's been kind of hard to know if it already passed or not...
[ Her shoulders sag a little. So much for planning elaborate birthday parties and such, not that she even has the means to have a party here anyway. More importantly! Gaze refocusing, she tilts her head towards Lys. ]
The ninth, huh? Mine's the sixteenth of— [translation from potato-mouthed fantasy medieval nordic incoming...] —May. Uh, that is, the fifth month of the solar year.
[Don't ask me to make up a whole-ass calendar, I won't do it, je refuse and au revoir. It's bad enough they won't be able to tell they technically share the same birth month because the Fódlan calendar has it's new year in April for some fucking reason.]
"Harpstring Moon" is a way prettier name for a month, though it's a shame we can't tell when your birthday is...maybe I can ask one of the robots about it later.
[She hums, nudging another little block into place. And says, completely innocently:]
Mine might be soon, if I've kept count right.
[This is, perhaps, a mistake.]
Edited (you can tell i'm tired because i fucked up my own oc's birthday) 2021-04-21 04:08 (UTC)
[ How could revealing a birthday to a good friend possibly be a mistake in any way, shape, or form?
Surely Lys wishes only for the joy of her friends, which in this case means a sudden widening of eyes, an audible gasp, and then a sudden clap of Annette's hands together as she stares unblinking at Lys a dazzling smile on her face. ]
Really? Soon? We should throw you a birthday party then!
[ Oh, hm, but wait, Annette might sometimes blitz ahead without thinking a lot of the time but she has the presence of mind to slow down now, doing her best to match her knowledge of Lys to her imagined knowledge of what Lys (being Lys) might want. ]
Only if you want one, of course.
[ Maybe she's not into parties? Some people aren't into parties. However— ]
But you have to let me get you a present at least. Have to.
[Putting the finishing touches on the Jenga tower, Lys makes her second mistake: looking up and meeting that bright-eyed stare, pinned by it like a butterfly to an entomology board.]
A...party? Just for one birthday? ["My birthday?" goes unsaid, obvious just the same in the exaggerated lift of her eyebrows and the questioning tilt of her head.] I’ve heard about that, but we never really did it back home. Just little get-togethers every month for everyone born in that month.
[Who would Annette even invite to such a party, anyway? There’s Ema and Kainé and Summer, Lys supposes, but that only comes out to a total of five people. Would Annette bring her own friends? Would it inconvenience them? Make them feel awkward? What would it cost Annette to throw a “proper” party?
Her hands reach out and grab the bag of chips, simply holding it instead of trying to eat any, cellophane crinkling audibly as her grip tightens in a faint show of nerves. No, she doesn’t want a party. Doesn’t need one. Like Anja has said before, counting off another year wasn’t anything for a werewolf to brag about. No real achievement, nothing special. You could even look at it as a particularly tasteless joke, a kind of blasphemy; celebrating a life that shouldn’t exist in the first place.]
I won’t tell you not to get me something if you really want to [conceded with a rueful smile] but don’t you think being my friend is already enough of a gift? ‘Cause I do.
[ Hold on, wait just one minute, there is a lot of information being inadvertantly revealed here but the most important bit makes itself known almost immediately, Annette's eyes bugging wide and her spine going ramrod straight as she surges up from her previous ooze on the blankets. ]
You've never had a birthday party before? Not even one?
[ That's just so...sad! Sad and upsetting and even if Lys is apparently unbothered by this lack of festive celebration Annette is plenty bothered on her behalf. The rest of her words go completely dismissed as Annette latches onto that singular piece of information. ]
Then we definitely have to have a party, even if it's just you and me. [ Though obviously the invite list can definitely be expanded if Lys wants! ] A party with a cake and decorations - I wonder if I could make some simple ones - and I'll definitely sing the birthday song...
[ What was that about being a friend already enough of a gift? Annette has already moved on, her own brows pulled firmly together as she goes through the veritable checklist of things required (in her opinion) for a proper birthday party, muttering low under her breath. ]
[It's a good thing Lys wasn't trying to flirt, otherwise she'd be feeling more deflated than a mutilated balloon. Instead she laughs softly, nonplussed.]
You make it sound like nobody cared! We had parties, just...not personal ones, I guess.
[She doesn't mention that such a way of doing things made it possible for some of the poorer families in her village to have a celebration at all, that gathering resources for one party a month versus several was infinitely more doable when there was never very much to go around. Doesn't even think to, releasing her death grip on the chips bag to reach out and lightly touch Annette's shoulder, trying to disrupt that obvious reverie.]
But I think a party with just you and me [and the robot stripper (?)] could be really fun. You could sing me the birthday song, whatever that is, and we'll eat a whole bunch of sweets. Doesn't have to be cake.
[Speaking of cake...somewhere in all the hustle and bustle, she's gotten the plates and cutlery arranged just so, not trusting the robots to do even that much without some additional and entirely unnecessary commentary. Chips bag nestled securely in her lap—yes, she intends to eat both snacks at the same time—Lys opens the cakebox and starts divvying the chocolate cake inside into neat slices.]
[ Well the robot stripper is obviously a given, please prepare yourself.
The casual pressure against her shoulder is enough to disrupt her chaotic train of thought and she blinks, pulled away from her frantic party planning and back into the present. It probably would be rude to ignore Lys for half this sleepover, huh... Annette offers up a smile of apology, voice slowing down. ]
Then we'll have one personal party just for the experience and after that you can do whatever you want.
[ Group parties, no parties, whatever Lys and her oversized heart desires. For now, they can move on to the much more exciting activity of stuffing their faces. ]
Speaking of whatever you want, was there anything you really wanted to do during the sleepover?
[She smiles back—a little tired, a little vague—offense clearly not taken. It was (cute) (adorable) oddly charming, the way Annette sometimes got so distracted by an idea that she forgot about the rest of the world, chasing it down as avidly as a squirrel after acorns. Lys takes a moment to hold that mental image clear in her mind before answering, savoring how apt the metaphor felt, then breathes out the faintest sigh of relief.
Comparisons to 6O had not intruded. Maybe tonight would be okay.]
Well, I figured we'd stuff our faces and play some games. Maybe sit in front of the fire—unless you're already feeling too warm, of course. And...maybe you could read out some of those books you brought?
[She tries (and fails) not to let herself sound too hopeful. Lys could read them herself, she's knows she could, but simply listening to the other girl's voice seemed so much nicer.]
[ It might technically be spring (or whatever passes for the spring season around these parts) but the constant overhang of clouds in the sky means the weather stays cooler than it normally might with the sun out. Sitting close in front of the fire sounds like a fantastic idea, and Annette snags a slice of cake before beaming over at Lys.
Her stomach, presented with delicious sweets, rumbles in anticipation. She ignores it and pushes on. ]
That sounds great! You can pick the first game then and we can switch from there.
[ How many games....are they going to play....? Only time will tell. The point of a sleepover certainly isn't to sleep, in any case. ]
[She takes her own cake slice but doesn’t start eating it, waiting until Annette has started first. If she were alone or at yet another bustling (and well-stocked) party hosted by the robots, her portion would already be gone, bolted down in several quick mouthfuls. In smaller, more intimate gatherings like these, she chews slowly—hardwired to allow others the chance to steal from her plate, expression thoughtful as she muses over the options.]
Well, this block-stacking game is supposed to be pretty easy. We take turns pulling out the pieces, one at time, and whoever makes the tower falls over is the loser. Or there’s this, uh..."Connect 4some” game.
[Because the robots just couldn’t help themselves, apparently. It looks like an ordinary Connect 4 game, but with hearts and dicks and breasts, etc. stamped on the plastic discs. Moving on!]
Or maybe this "Scrabble" game?
[Where you can get extra points for spelling out words like "kiss" and "hug" and "blowjob", but she sees no reason to mention that. And yeah, Annette had said she could pick, but that's like asking Lys to sprout wings and fly.]
Annette is definitely not selecting Connect 4some, if only because she has seen enough dicks, boobs, and other genetalia over the course of her ten-month stay on the island. It'd be one thing if they were attached to someone she liked and was interested in, but just randomly hanging out all over the place? No thanks.
She does like easy though, and it's with a matching easy smile that she pulls out the box of blocks and sets it in front of them. ]
Then let's start with the block-stacking one. And if it ends up being too hard or we get too bored, we can pick something else.
[ They've got all night, it shouldn't be a problem.
Naturally, there's still something incredibly sexual about the block stacking game once she starts taking the blocks out of the box. Maybe it's the color of the pieces, oddly fleshy, with a faint sweat-like (or lube-like) sheen to them. Or maybe it has to do with the instructions, containing one too many 'pulling out' jokes to be fully wholesome. But she's come this far and she'll be damned if she lets the island get in the way of their nice fun-filled sleepover.
Once all the bricks are stacked Annette sits back, motioning to Lys. ]
[Would she get her credits back if she returned these pornographic nightmares...signs point to no, but then, it seems like such a small thing to worry over. Too small to care about. Lots of things seemed like that now, with 6O gone. If Lys wasn’t deliberately focusing only on their game and Annette’s presence, she might stop to wonder if it was like that for everyone who went through dooms of love. Would it explain her older sister’s dark moods after a breakup? Her big brother’s despondent sighing that lasted for weeks?]
‘kay...
[Grimacing slightly in shared distaste, yet equally committed to powering through, Lys carefully pulls out removes one of the middle flesh-blocks from near the top of the tower—a safe move with no thought paid to future risk or gain. She rubs together the fingers that had touched it, frown deepening at the odd texture. Not quite like skin, just moist enough to be off-putting. Did the robots really think that kind of thing got anyone in the mood? Even if she wasn’t emotionally treading water right now, Lys doesn’t think she’d find anything exciting about watching Annette handle a bunch of sweaty block pieces.]
I was kinda hoping this one would be, you know, normal. It looked like it, compared to some of the other games.
[The less said about "Hole-y Guacamole" and "Pin the Dildo on the Donkey", the better. Not that keeping silent could erase the memory of the risque boxart she had seen, a blush rising in her face against her own will.]
[ Every day she wishes everything about this island was normal, so that's a sentiment she can relate to. ]
I guess you really can't judge a book by its cover. Or a box.
[ Terrible!
She smiles when Lys successfully pulls out removes her brick, though the expression fades real quick once she's forced to (once again) feel the moist texture of the brick against her fingers. It's honestly a miracle that they don't stick to each other during the process of extraction, though maybe she just stacked them incorrectly.
The tower is another brick lighter by the time she's done, but in looking over towards Lys and noticing the redness on her face, her bubble of triumph popping as concern swells up. ]
Are you okay? We really don't have to play this if you don't want to. [ Somehow, this feels like her fault. ] I'm sorry everything turned out like this.
[ This being 'sexualized to hell and back.'
Impulsively she reaches out across the table, taking Lys's hand in her own. ]
I'm just happy to be here with you. It doesn't matter what we do.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
It's fun having a lot of people around for a sleepover, but sometimes it's nice just to spend time with one other person, you know? So it can just be us for now! And then if you decide you want more people over, we can always have a bigger sleepover next time.
[ The fact that there might not be a next time, that something might happen to either of them between now and three days from now, never even crosses her mind. ]
But I can definitely bring blankets and pillows! There's nothing like falling asleep under a pile of blankets as snug as a bug in a rug.
[ When will someone teach her the phrase 'blanket burrito'.....Anyway. ]
When did you wanna have the sleepover?
no subject
Lys makes tight fists of her hands, her sensible nails cutting into the meat of her palms. Is it possible to break bones this way? To keep squeezing and squeezing with blasphemous strength until her fingers shattered? She doesn't know, but for a few ugly moments, the promised pain seems almost worth it. Anything to kill these selfish impulses before they could grow from thought to action, demanding more from Annette than Lys deserved to have.
At any other time she'd be distracted by how stupid of a phrase "snug as a bug in a rug" truly was, but today it hardly registers.]
tomorrow, maybe?
if that's okay
i know it's pretty last minute
and i bet you're super busy
[She can't imagine Annette, someone so cute and sweet and wonderful and good, having much of an open schedule. Or maybe that's just her wounded subconscious talking, trying to safeguard against disappointment by preemptively assuming the worst.]
no subject
I'm not really that busy...but even if I was busy I would make time for you!
[ If Lys wanted her over tonight, she'd find a way to make it happen. ]
So tomorrow is perfect. I'll make sure to bring lots of extra blankets and pillows. Maybe I'll try baking something too.
[ Because it's always good to have extra snacks on hand. ]
no subject
Lys stares at those words for a full minute. Two minutes. Three. In her mind, so clearly that it's almost audible, she hears Anja's voice calling her a leech and a parasite, a glue trap in human form. That her big blue eyes and pathetic smile weren't good for anything except playing on another's pity—a sundew's sticky trap that lured in the tender-hearted and then digested them a piece at a time, devouring sympathy and patience and kindness until nothing remained.
She hears 6O's voice telling Lys that she loved her.
She hears Ema's voice bluntly praising her for working so hard at their lessons.
She hears Annette's voice calling her amazing, and just as smart as everyone else, and many other things.
....
Her fingers begin to move again, playing over the holographic keyboard.]
that sounds good to me
i bet anything you bake will be great
i'll handle the ice cream and games and everything else
come over whenever
and don't worry about knocking
you're always welcome, annette
no subject
[ Progress...tiny baby steps towards one day achieving perfectly fluffy muffins on the first go instead of the third. ]
Also I would still knock!! That's just rude not to.
[ And okay, maybe it would be like a knock one second before she shoves open the door and barges in, but the knock would still be there. She's not a heathen!! ]
But okay! See you soon Lys!! 😊
do not perceive this tag
😊
[Mission accomplished...which leaves Lys with about a day and a half to kill. She has no appetite for eating or cooking, no drive to go hunting and fishing, no itch to take a strenuous hike all over the island in a bid to outpace her painful emotions. And there was no way she could sit down to meditate just yet. Settling her nerves would have to wait.
Instead Lys walks over to the coffeetable and pulls it away from the couch. Goes into the two spare bedrooms and drags out the mattresses she kept sheeted and clean for guests who never came. (“Guests” like Adora and 6O had always spent the night in her own bed, curled up in her arms.) She pushes each one into the gap, arranging and rearranging until they’re snug against each other and the base of the couch, then covers them both in blankets and pillows and the odd scavenged stuffed animal. Everything that common sense tells her would make for a cozy bed nest, until...yes. Yes, that looked about right. The mattresses were big enough to make sprawling out easy and the couch was right there in case Annette was unwilling to share. They could eat off the coffeetable without needing to get up and move or worry about falling asleep in a pile of crumbs.
It looked about right, and yet it felt strange. Would she have ever asked Annette for something like this if 6O hadn’t disappeared? Why not? Because Annette looked so much like Anja except in her eyes and the softer lines of her face, the emotions that shone out of both like warm sunlight? Or because Lys was still a coward? Content to hang in the middle, coming at life from a tilted angle, moving with the currents around her because it was easier than swimming against the tide.
…...
She ends up sleeping in the bed nest that night, breathing in the clean scents of detergent and fabric softener instead of the fading traces of 6O’s strange mix of metal and flowers. It helps. And when Annette evenually turns up, there’s a fire roaring in the fireplace and snacks laid out on the coffeetable: a bag of pretzels, a bag of chips, a gallon of ice cream left out to soften, a cakebox. Plates and bowls and cutlery and napkins. A pack of cards and a few battered board games: Scrabble, Jenga, Connect 4.
(Did she spend all her credits getting those? Who knows.)
And deep, dark hollows under her eyes, purple-black smudges like fresh bruises.]
no subject
In the end, after a good ten minutes of brainstorming, she comes up with the perfect plan. Which is….well, Lys will probably see it if she peeps out her window at any point during the five minutes right before Annette shows up at her door. And if she doesn't….well, she'll certainly get a good eyeful whenever she opens the door after a very insistent knock. ]
Hi Lys!
[ There stands Annette, beaming brightly, with a small army of robots behind her, their little metallic arms filled to the brim with all of her things. ]
Sorry, I couldn't think of a way to bring everything over by myself…
[ She may or may not have had to convince the robots that this was all for a romantic and intimate night out. One of the robots may or may not make this evident by beeping out a loud: ]
WE ADVISE FEWER LAYERS RATHER THAN MORE FOR AN OPTIMIZED EVENING FILLED WITH ENTHUSIASTIC INTERCOURSE.
[ Please don't mind Annette as her face turns beet red. ]
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Lys can’t help but laugh. Deep, genuine, just a little too loud, the sound bursts out of her like water from a breaking dam, rumbling through her whole body as it rolls up from the pit of her stomach. She's breathing hard by the time she stops, wiping away tears of mirth (and nothing else, honest) from the corners of both eyes. Can’t remember the last time she’d laughed so hard, or maybe just so desperately; doesn’t care either way.]
I, uh...I mean, we appreciate the advice, but I think we know what we're doing. Right, Annette?
[She can't muster up a wink to show that she’s playing along, even a small one, but she does manage a sheepish smile. Feeling a little better—lighter, somehow cleaner—Lys walks over to the nearest robot and politely relieves them of their burden (some of the books, miraculously enough), nodding toward the living room and kitchen.]
The sooner you guys help us get settled in, though, the sooner we can get started.
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She should be deeply mortified by the laughter - and is a little bit, the tips of her ears reddening along with the rest of her - but this is Lys, who has never said anything mean-spirited to her in the time they've known each other. Who has always been thoughtful and supportive and present for her, unlike certain other people she could name.
So Annette buries the worst of her embarrassment and lets out a weak laugh of her own, able to recognize the absurdity of the whole situation. ]
...Right.
[ The robots, empty-headed as they are, believe in Lys wholeheartedly and follow behind, placing down food and blankets and such wherever they're ordered to. It's not until they leave (and Lys's place is 50% more crowded than before) that Annette speaks up again, sheepish. ]
Thanks for inviting me over, Lys. Sorry you had to deal with that. I promise I'll figure out something better next time.
[ Because there's obviously going to be a next time, right? ]
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[The reassurance comes easily as Lys flops back on the bed nest, tossing some of the extra blankets on the couch to spread them out more evenly. Then she snags one of the books Annette had brought, paging it open without glancing at the cover.]
Sorry for laughing, by the way. It wasn't at you. Just... [She trails off, still smiling, flipping through the book too fast to read it, wanting only to have something to do with hands while her brain scoured for the right words. Coming up empty, she shrugs and puts the book down again.] It was really funny, the way they were looking at us. I don't know how else to say it.
[And she wasn't going to admit that she'd really needed a laugh. It would just invite too many questions that Lys didn't want to answer and would feel bad for avoiding, knowing that Annette would only ask them—if she did ask them—out of kindness.]
Next time, though, I don't mind helping. If you still want to come over here, I mean.
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I know. You wouldn't laugh at someone like that. [ This is what Annette firmly believes, at least, and will continue to believe until proven otherwise. ] And it was kind of funny, wasn't it...
[ Everything's funnier in hindsight, or something like that. Regardless, she's already moving on, plopping herself on the nearest pile of pillows and blankets before craning her neck to peer up at Lys. ]
And of course I want to come over! I'm always happy to see you and spend time with you, Lys. It doesn't have to be for anything special too, I don't mind just hanging out, though of course we should definitely see each other on days like holidays and birthdays and stuff like that.
[ Her little brain is already racing with plans for the future...someone stop her. ]
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If only there was a way to clutch that solace close without opening her heart fully to it.]
Yeah, of course. That sounds like a lot of fun. [Fingers drumming on her thighs for a moment, Lys goes back to working on the Jenga tower, stacking up the tiny blocks.] ...when is your birthday, by the way?
[Said ever so subtly. (Note: Lys is not subtle.)]
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It's on the 9th day of Harpstring Moon! [ That's.....May 9th, in normal people speak. ] But since there's not really any sort of calendar here, it's been kind of hard to know if it already passed or not...
[ Her shoulders sag a little. So much for planning elaborate birthday parties and such, not that she even has the means to have a party here anyway. More importantly! Gaze refocusing, she tilts her head towards Lys. ]
What about yours?
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[Don't ask me to make up a whole-ass calendar, I won't do it, je refuse and au revoir. It's bad enough they won't be able to tell they technically share the same birth month because the Fódlan calendar has it's new year in April for some fucking reason.]
"Harpstring Moon" is a way prettier name for a month, though it's a shame we can't tell when your birthday is...maybe I can ask one of the robots about it later.
[She hums, nudging another little block into place. And says, completely innocently:]
Mine might be soon, if I've kept count right.
[This is, perhaps, a mistake.]
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Surely Lys wishes only for the joy of her friends, which in this case means a sudden widening of eyes, an audible gasp, and then a sudden clap of Annette's hands together as she stares unblinking at Lys a dazzling smile on her face. ]
Really? Soon? We should throw you a birthday party then!
[ Oh, hm, but wait, Annette might sometimes blitz ahead without thinking a lot of the time but she has the presence of mind to slow down now, doing her best to match her knowledge of Lys to her imagined knowledge of what Lys (being Lys) might want. ]
Only if you want one, of course.
[ Maybe she's not into parties? Some people aren't into parties. However— ]
But you have to let me get you a present at least. Have to.
[ She will not budge on this. ]
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A...party? Just for one birthday? ["My birthday?" goes unsaid, obvious just the same in the exaggerated lift of her eyebrows and the questioning tilt of her head.] I’ve heard about that, but we never really did it back home. Just little get-togethers every month for everyone born in that month.
[Who would Annette even invite to such a party, anyway? There’s Ema and Kainé and Summer, Lys supposes, but that only comes out to a total of five people. Would Annette bring her own friends? Would it inconvenience them? Make them feel awkward? What would it cost Annette to throw a “proper” party?
Her hands reach out and grab the bag of chips, simply holding it instead of trying to eat any, cellophane crinkling audibly as her grip tightens in a faint show of nerves. No, she doesn’t want a party. Doesn’t need one. Like Anja has said before, counting off another year wasn’t anything for a werewolf to brag about. No real achievement, nothing special. You could even look at it as a particularly tasteless joke, a kind of blasphemy; celebrating a life that shouldn’t exist in the first place.]
I won’t tell you not to get me something if you really want to [conceded with a rueful smile] but don’t you think being my friend is already enough of a gift? ‘Cause I do.
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You've never had a birthday party before? Not even one?
[ That's just so...sad! Sad and upsetting and even if Lys is apparently unbothered by this lack of festive celebration Annette is plenty bothered on her behalf. The rest of her words go completely dismissed as Annette latches onto that singular piece of information. ]
Then we definitely have to have a party, even if it's just you and me. [ Though obviously the invite list can definitely be expanded if Lys wants! ] A party with a cake and decorations - I wonder if I could make some simple ones - and I'll definitely sing the birthday song...
[ What was that about being a friend already enough of a gift? Annette has already moved on, her own brows pulled firmly together as she goes through the veritable checklist of things required (in her opinion) for a proper birthday party, muttering low under her breath. ]
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You make it sound like nobody cared! We had parties, just...not personal ones, I guess.
[She doesn't mention that such a way of doing things made it possible for some of the poorer families in her village to have a celebration at all, that gathering resources for one party a month versus several was infinitely more doable when there was never very much to go around. Doesn't even think to, releasing her death grip on the chips bag to reach out and lightly touch Annette's shoulder, trying to disrupt that obvious reverie.]
But I think a party with just you and me [and the robot stripper (?)] could be really fun. You could sing me the birthday song, whatever that is, and we'll eat a whole bunch of sweets. Doesn't have to be cake.
[Speaking of cake...somewhere in all the hustle and bustle, she's gotten the plates and cutlery arranged just so, not trusting the robots to do even that much without some additional and entirely unnecessary commentary. Chips bag nestled securely in her lap—yes, she intends to eat both snacks at the same time—Lys opens the cakebox and starts divvying the chocolate cake inside into neat slices.]
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The casual pressure against her shoulder is enough to disrupt her chaotic train of thought and she blinks, pulled away from her frantic party planning and back into the present. It probably would be rude to ignore Lys for half this sleepover, huh... Annette offers up a smile of apology, voice slowing down. ]
Then we'll have one personal party just for the experience and after that you can do whatever you want.
[ Group parties, no parties, whatever Lys and her oversized heart desires. For now, they can move on to the much more exciting activity of stuffing their faces. ]
Speaking of whatever you want, was there anything you really wanted to do during the sleepover?
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[She smiles back—a little tired, a little vague—offense clearly not taken. It was (cute) (adorable) oddly charming, the way Annette sometimes got so distracted by an idea that she forgot about the rest of the world, chasing it down as avidly as a squirrel after acorns. Lys takes a moment to hold that mental image clear in her mind before answering, savoring how apt the metaphor felt, then breathes out the faintest sigh of relief.
Comparisons to 6O had not intruded. Maybe tonight would be okay.]
Well, I figured we'd stuff our faces and play some games. Maybe sit in front of the fire—unless you're already feeling too warm, of course. And...maybe you could read out some of those books you brought?
[She tries (and fails) not to let herself sound too hopeful. Lys could read them herself, she's knows she could, but simply listening to the other girl's voice seemed so much nicer.]
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Her stomach, presented with delicious sweets, rumbles in anticipation. She ignores it and pushes on. ]
That sounds great! You can pick the first game then and we can switch from there.
[ How many games....are they going to play....? Only time will tell. The point of a sleepover certainly isn't to sleep, in any case. ]
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Well, this block-stacking game is supposed to be pretty easy. We take turns pulling out the pieces, one at time, and whoever makes the tower falls over is the loser. Or there’s this, uh..."Connect 4some” game.
[Because the robots just couldn’t help themselves, apparently. It looks like an ordinary Connect 4 game, but with hearts and dicks and breasts, etc. stamped on the plastic discs. Moving on!]
Or maybe this "Scrabble" game?
[Where you can get extra points for spelling out words like "kiss" and "hug" and "blowjob", but she sees no reason to mention that. And yeah, Annette had said she could pick, but that's like asking Lys to sprout wings and fly.]
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Annette is definitely not selecting Connect 4some, if only because she has seen enough dicks, boobs, and other genetalia over the course of her ten-month stay on the island. It'd be one thing if they were attached to someone she liked and was interested in, but just randomly hanging out all over the place? No thanks.
She does like easy though, and it's with a matching easy smile that she pulls out the box of blocks and sets it in front of them. ]
Then let's start with the block-stacking one. And if it ends up being too hard or we get too bored, we can pick something else.
[ They've got all night, it shouldn't be a problem.
Naturally, there's still something incredibly sexual about the block stacking game once she starts taking the blocks out of the box. Maybe it's the color of the pieces, oddly fleshy, with a faint sweat-like (or lube-like) sheen to them. Or maybe it has to do with the instructions, containing one too many 'pulling out' jokes to be fully wholesome. But she's come this far and she'll be damned if she lets the island get in the way of their nice fun-filled sleepover.
Once all the bricks are stacked Annette sits back, motioning to Lys. ]
Here. You can go first.
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‘kay...
[Grimacing slightly in shared distaste, yet equally committed to powering through, Lys carefully
pulls outremoves one of the middle flesh-blocks from near the top of the tower—a safe move with no thought paid to future risk or gain. She rubs together the fingers that had touched it, frown deepening at the odd texture. Not quite like skin, just moist enough to be off-putting. Did the robots really think that kind of thing got anyone in the mood? Even if she wasn’t emotionally treading water right now, Lys doesn’t think she’d find anything exciting about watching Annette handle a bunch of sweaty block pieces.]I was kinda hoping this one would be, you know, normal. It looked like it, compared to some of the other games.
[The less said about "Hole-y Guacamole" and "Pin the Dildo on the Donkey", the better. Not that keeping silent could erase the memory of the risque boxart she had seen, a blush rising in her face against her own will.]
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I guess you really can't judge a book by its cover. Or a box.
[ Terrible!
She smiles when Lys successfully
pulls outremoves her brick, though the expression fades real quick once she's forced to (once again) feel the moist texture of the brick against her fingers. It's honestly a miracle that they don't stick to each other during the process of extraction, though maybe she just stacked them incorrectly.The tower is another brick lighter by the time she's done, but in looking over towards Lys and noticing the redness on her face, her bubble of triumph popping as concern swells up. ]
Are you okay? We really don't have to play this if you don't want to. [ Somehow, this feels like her fault. ] I'm sorry everything turned out like this.
[ This being 'sexualized to hell and back.'
Impulsively she reaches out across the table, taking Lys's hand in her own. ]
I'm just happy to be here with you. It doesn't matter what we do.
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crawls back to this 2 weeks later
poses on the ground like one of your french girls, but while wearing a potato sack 1/2
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sets you on fire
finally
barfs on you with my barfhands too
every time you act nasty, i mail a potato to your house
good, i love potatoes
you're getting piss potatoes
that piss will be the perfect seasoning for the mashed potatoes i make you
i got psychic damage from reading that, thank u