[WEEK 5: SATURDAY, POST-TRIAL: Lucina]

[spinatalltale]

[she doesn't care. why should she? she knows how this ends. she knows how it's always ended. she opens her heart to someone, and is a disappointment enough for them to cast her aside or leave her]

[she doesn't know why this place would be any different]

[. . . and yet, this evening after the trial, her feet guide her without input from her brain. she checks their mutual hut first-- nothing. she wanders for some time, weaving in and out of the wicker houses]

[until she finds herself at Bellamy's hut. she doesn't know why she didn't try here first, honestly. . . she knows how close the two are, how close they remain, despite the exchanged glances at trial]

Lucina?

[no dramatics. no theatrics. no cheer or usual peppiness. just Magilou, searching for her partner, and totally not because she actually cares or anything like that]

Comments

[spinatalltale]

. . .

[her mouth curls into a lopsided smile. a bit wry]

You shouldn't be ashamed of your own moments of weakness. With weakness, comes strength. With weakness. . . comes the will to fight. Isn't that true?

The darkest parts of us help the brighter ones shine all the more brilliantly. And despite you breaking, Lucina, you continued to carry a lantern to lead us home.

Even if today's trial was a mess-- everyone believed in you. And that's important.

[rightfully]

[ Everyone believed in her. Magilou had decided, midway, that Lucina might not have killed Fie, even though she did, even though they both knew it. They had all chosen to vote Akira over here, even when the truth was clear and blatant. His position had been so, so much worse than hers.

Everyone believed in her, but she couldn't save Akira. Not really.

Everyone had believed in her, but that hadn't stopped them from disappointing her repeatedly, without end. Jaffar, Laura, Serph, Akira... even Magilou. Even if she knows she will miss some among those names, she knows she will be better off if she never has to see any of them again. When they wake up. Months from now, when this dream fades into an odd, irreverent memory. Lucina will be better off for it.

And yet, she finds herself clinging to this moment, to Magilou's soft words and careful attention, and the way it seemingly exonerates her. Strange, isn't it?

Well, anyway. Here's something important: ]

... I think I am going to be sick.

[ MAGILOU LET HER UP ]

[spinatalltale]

[. . . oh dear]

Whoa, hold on, don't be sick on me! You'll ruin the moment!

[h-here Lucina, let her take you by the shoulders and help you off the porch so you can be sick in the front yard of the hut]

[rightfully]

[ beware, snow

this is going to get gross




here, have some vomit sounds ]

[spinatalltale]

[what did the snow ever do to deserve this!!]

[at least Magilou is there, with her hand on Lucina's back, trying not to make faces]

[rightfully]

[ Eventually, she eases up, wiping her mouth. The taste of sour liquor and bile is likely going to remain until well into the morning, but Lucina's medieval, so you know she's been through worse.

She's never had a hangover before, though.

Tomorrow will be interesting.

In a small voice, she says, ] Thank you.

[spinatalltale]

[it sure will be. drink lots of water, Lucina]

Don't mention it. I just want to make sure you don't accidentally wind up puking up your stomach.