milliways_bar | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Nita's outside, running around the lake. Because when you're running, you don't have to be thinking.

Eventually, though, she'll have to stop. Feel free to catch her.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"And you've talked to it already?"

"Yeah. Max and I were the ones who woke her up."

"So this is why Trillian was stressed, huh."

She considers. "If you think forcing her out of the shared body would kill both of them. . . I don't know, talking her out of it may be the best way to do it. Unless you can somehow force her to relinquish control without leaving the body."

"We tried. Max and I tried, Zan and Rath tried... nothing doing. Can't hurt her without hurting Isabel, with what we can do. And Rath hasn't talked to me since yesterday."

"Wait -- Zan and Rath are. . .?"

"Our passengers." He grins wryly. "They're more cooperative than Vilandra."

"Okay, I think I'm starting to get this." She shrugs. "If you'd like, I could talk to this spirit. I don't want to intrude or anything -- but if I might be able to help. . ."

"We need any help we can get. I don't know if she'd listen to you when she wouldn't to Zan, but... gotta be worth a try."

She switches into the Speech. "Most of wizardry is just talking, and convincing things to be other than what they are." Back in English -- "I'll do some research, see what I can do."

"Thank you." Sincerely.

"No problem." She quirks a rueful smile at him. "It'll be good for me to have someone else's problems to help with."

"Anything I can help with, in return?"

"Not really." She sighs. "Just. . . stuff I have to deal with."

"Sounds familiar. They tell me talking helps sometimes..."

Shrugging a little, she looks down at the ground and starts picking at the grass. "Trillian's husband -- Jasin -- and I were linked, I guess kind of the same way Trillian and Max are. And since he died. . . It's been rough."

"Yeah, I saw the note." He glances down. "I didn't really know him that well - I mean, there was the war, but he was there for Trillian, really. Sorry about..."

Quietly -- "Thanks." She sighs. "It's just tough." She adds in a mutter, "And people insulting him to my face doesn't help."

Michael sits up straighter, frowning.

"What? Who - ?"

She bites her lip.

"Someone I know. To be fair, I don't think she knew we were linked. But she was. . . overjoyed at the news."

"Did she know you were friends? And that you could hear her?"

"Probably not, and yes."

She sighs, and one hand goes up to play with the locket hanging around her neck. "Jasin. . . wasn't always the nicest guy. I guess he did something to her. So I can't exactly blame her."

"...maybe not, if she didn't know you cared about him. But still, the guy's dead. There's a thing called respect."

She nods. "Yeah, I know."

Michael looks at her for a long moment, then reaches out. She's extended family, and she's upset.

"C'mere."

She gives him a surprised look, which softens into a smile as she gives him a sideways hug.

"Thanks."