what arms have lain under my head til morning? [mixed]

[tisnotthehouse]

Who: Tarantulas

What: This spider is about to have some real Bad Times. This is an top-level for everyone who would like to experience those Bad Times along with him.

When: Late February and March

Where: Open

Warning(s): Emotional manipulation and toxicity, people poorly coping with mental illness. Pregnancy, gore, and body horror. Further warnings TBD (4/7)

Comments

[tisnotthehouse]

For a moment Tarantulas can only stare, stunned.

"You...really want me there? For something like that?" he finally asks. When César doesn't immediately answer in the negative, Tarantulas begins to actually stammer, flustered once again. "César, that would...I'd be very pleased -- no, that's not the right word," he interrupts himself, grimacing. "I mean, it'd be an honor. I'd be honored to attend."

It's not simply the event himself that has him so emotional. He's seen funerals before, from tens of thousands of different cultures -- but always from a distance, as a neutral observer. He's never felt any attachment to a member of the family before, nor they to him. This invitation is unprecedented, despite the extreme length of his life.

[pineapplesalmon]

César smiles more broadly, charmed by how flustered Tarantulas is, and glad he was right about how much it would mean to him to attend. "Yes. They took great effort to help me become part of the world. If they were still alive today, they'd extend the same hand of friendship to you. Some things can only be understood if you've experienced them first hand."