i've been having dreams jumping on a trampoline

[decohere]

Who: Ava, some books, 6, and open
What: farm research, some gardening, and succumbing to a rather painful death
When: late March, early April
Where: library, the farm
Warnings: Ava's dying, most of the prompts are dealing with that. first prompt is the most neutral

i. trip and i fall in, i wanted it to happen

Ava spends plenty of time researching in the library, especially when it's too rainy out to do much else. Taking notes in her own little book, things she learns about bees and honey, about horses and trees and soil and fertilizing and crops... pest control and pruning and harvest. There's so much more to this than she thought. She's not trying to maximize profits by increasing yields on some industrial level, but she does want to make sure they have something to show for their efforts, come autumn.

And some days she might sneak in a romance novel, casually watching other visitors over the edge of the pages she flips through, trying to get to the good parts.

ii. my body turns to ice, crushing weight of paradise

But as the days pass, her condition considerably worsens. She struggles to pull a book on herbs out when her fingers refuse to connect with the spine, and eventually gets so frustrated that she ends up swiping an entire row of books off the shelf. They crash to the floor, and Ava startles in surprise. She stares down at the mess, embarrassed. And then kicks at a book.

iii. solid block of gold, lying in the cold

After that, Ava retreats back to the farm. Doesn't dare go into town again, she's rapidly falling apart and doesn't want to bring more attention and questions to it. She knows she only has days left. Everything hurts, and she can hardly focus on reading anymore. Her vision blurs just as badly as the rest of her.

But she refuses to spend it curled up in bed feeling sorry for herself. Instead she stays out in the small garden plots around the cottage, digging in wet dirt, planting rows of seeds for various herbs and spices. She's slow at it, but it's soothing, connecting with the earth, feeling it between her fingers.  

She's happy enough for any company, any distraction.

iv. i feel right at home
(closed to 6, cw death)

Eventually the pain becomes far too crippling, motions too discordant to properly coordinate her limbs. She lays as still as possible in the damp grass while staring up at the starry sky, clutching at Peter's hand as long as she can manage. She hates him seeing her like this. She'd hate it more if she had to go through this alone. Each breath is a weak whimper, accompanied by erratic glitching, particle by particle more of her form fading out and not coming back. 

Comments

iii.

[astrogator]

Ari Tayrey hasn't seen Ava in a while, and the cottage is only a little out of her way as she returns from guarding high-value cargo in transit. Her plan is to knock on the door, but she spots Ava out in the garden instead, carefully digging in the dirt.

She approaches, calling out 'Peace and prosperity!' from some distance away, so that she isn't sneaking up and startling the other woman.

Then, when she gets a little closer: 'What are you doing there?'

[decohere]

Ava glances up at the familiar greeting and offers her own in the form of a muddy-handed wave that flickers a trail of after images. She's smiling as Tayrey approaches, but her overall expression is etched with pain.

"Planting some... basil and mint," she motions to the little pouches of seeds. "They need 6 to 8 hours of sunlight... so. I think this is the right spot." She sounds uncertain, but figures the only way to fully learn is to do.

[astrogator]

Ava's getting much worse. It's obvious to Ari, and even though it was predictable, something she knew would happen, there's a difference between theoretically knowing something and seeing it with your own eyes.

(She tries not to feel guilty. She tries to tell herself that there are no perfect solutions to complicated problems.)

Wanting to avoid getting mud on her clothes, she squats down to look closely at the planting, and then glances briefly at the sky. 'Looks like a good spot to me,' she says. 'Not that I know anything about it, except that if you're planning to sell some mint, you've found your first future customer.'

solid block of gold (CW: mentions of cancer)

[theydrewfirstblood]

The day the call comes, John takes the time to compose himself while he changes clothes, picks up a couple books and a satchel with some stuff he's carving, and some snacks for Co before he pops the chick in his pocket and heads over to the Starr homestead.

Ava's in the garden, and she doesn't look good--and fuck that hurts. He thinks of Delmar's widow, how wasted his once big, sturdy body was before the cancer finally took him...

Setting down his bag nearby the little patch she's working, John moves to her side, kneels down, puts an arm around her shoulders, and presses his face to the top of her head for a couple of seconds before he lets her go.

He's just planning to sit nearby and amuse himself. However...

"Peep? Peep!...peepeepeePEEP!"

John looks down at the breast pocket of his shirt, where the tiny chick is tucked, and laughs, shaking his head as he tugs her out and sets her on the ground once he sits himself down near Ava so she can hop around and investigate things that aren't the area Ava's currently cultivating.

"Sorry, she's a spoiled little diva--likes to be acknowledged. Co, this is Ava--Ava? Meet Co."

"Peepeep!"

[decohere]

She promised to call, he'd asked her to. But there's still that hesitation, that ingrained worry of bothering, of burdening somebody with her problems.

And then John gives her that comforting squeeze, and Ava sighs out with relief. That turns into a rather startled gasp then giggle at the unexpected peeping.

She had been taught by Eddie how to handle the chicks gently, so Ava wipes off her muddy hands on her quite dirty trousers before offering one out. The hand is visibly trembling, and she hopes she doesn't scare the little bird away. "Hello, cutie."

Her clothing is the same that he met her in, but in considerably worse condition. They're all she has to wear still, and working on the farm has put a lot of wear on them. But they don't look half as worn out as she does, she hasn't slept well at all.

[theydrewfirstblood]

Co hops up to Ava, peepeep at her quietly, then hops right into her hand with a flutter of fluffy little wings.

“She likes you.” John observes with a smile, shifting closer so he can reach out to pet the top of Co's head with a fingertip. “She’s a mouthy little monster, only quiets down around her friends.”

”Peep! Peep! PEEPEEPEEPEEP! PeePEEP!”

“Yeah, yeah, gotta have an opinion on everything. Brat.”

”Peep. Peep. PEEP!”

“And yeah, that’s what we love about you. Don’t change facts, booger.” John snickers. Reaching into his bag, he produces a few dried berries he keeps on hand for her as treats and offers a couple to Ava.

“Here, wanna give her some? She’s cute as all hell when she gets snacks.”

Is he taking advantage of the moment to try and help Ava forget her troubles for a split second? Absolutely—a second of peace is better than none.

i trip and i fall in, i wanted it to happen

[onyssius]

Jarod's in the library again, because he has a job--and he's nervous.

It's one thing to do this with a goal or direction--direction from the Centre, a goal in someone he can help. This is a job, a real one that pays actual money from one of the locals of Pumpkin Hollow. It's a small job, an easy one, but Jarod's never done this...

He's never really done a Pretend for himself before.

He's looking for a place to settle in with a stack of books on botany, frustrated he can't find the one he wants when he spots a familiar face--and the title of the book he was looking for on the spine of the one in her hands.

"Hello--we met recently?" he greets her in a whisper as he approaches her seat. "You helped me understand Hansel and Gretel...my name is Jarod, and I'm sorry but I was looking for that book you're reading. If it's not too much trouble, would I be able to borrow it for a few minutes? I've been trained in speed reading, and I have a photographic memory."

...I savor the feel of the pages under my fingers. The seat under my backside, the table under my elbows. There's something...special about that. Important--fleeting?...

...there's so much pain tied up in what I am.

"And...if there's anything I could do in exchange to help you out, I'd be happy to." he continues after a moment. He can't help but clench the fingers of one hand, the feel of the pages under his fingers a phantom he can't shake.

[decohere]

"Yes, I remember," Ava greets in return, because it had been fun to puzzle through the nonsensical fairytale with somebody that'd never heard of it.

She glances down at the fairly unremarkable book in surprise, that anyone else would be looking for it. But maybe he's trying to figure out how to grow things too. "Ah, it's really no bother," she marks her place by committing the crime of creasing one of the corners, and offers it over.

"What sorts of favors do you do?" It's hard to ask something in exchange without knowing somebody's speciality... beyond photographic memory. Which she certainly makes note of. Her own memory recall isn't perfect, but she has a way of carefully categorizing details.

[onyssius]

Jarod accepts the book, saying nothing...and the silence lingers a few moments.

Because this part...he's not used to talking about it so openly. Around it, skirting it, joking about it when he's helping someone, but so rarely has he been able to speak about it without...well, pretending.

So he opens the book, and starts scanning it, page by page, turning every few seconds as he speaks.

"They...call me a Pretender." he explains. "I have a natural affinity: empathy, imagination, intelligence, but to become...this...I was trained to hone my skills. This place, the Centre, stole me from my family when I was very young and made me what I am. I can become anyone I want to be, do anything I want to do. All I need is a little information and...I'm whoever I need to be. Right now, that's a botanist--a local woman is having trouble in her garden, and she asked for my help to figure out why her plants keep dying, so I'm trying to learn what I can about the local flora and fauna."

He pauses in his rapid-pace reading, glancing up at her face--then at her hands, the feel of the pages still branded into his fingers. A look of impossible grief crosses his face as he does.

"And I also know you're very sick." he adds softly. "So if you need a doctor, I would be happy to help, or if...medicine can't help, maybe I can be someone else that can ease your pain somehow."

ii Turns to Ice

[redlightgreenlight]

Ava's frustration draws her attention long before her outburst, so much so that she's by her friend's side, picking up the books, mere seconds after it happens. She knew that without the stability of the Eterna that Ava would begin to regress, but she'd hoped it wouldn't be painful.

"Don't worry about it," she says, putting books back up on the shelf. "I'll clean up."

[decohere]

"I didn't mean to," Ava insists, because truthfully she hadn't expected to make contact with the books at all. "They just... fell!" She's really trying hard to save face, doesn't want to admit to how much she's struggling.

But she's unable to help with the pick up, stands back and allows Valdis to do so as she wraps her arms around her torso and shudders with pain. "I didn't..." She wants to vanish in shame. She's afraid to do so, because pulling herself back together is getting harder and harder.

[redlightgreenlight]

"It's ok, Ava." She rises with an armful of books and begins putting them back on the shelf.

The Eterna had been a miserable place, but at least some aspects had been stable for Ava.

"Shall I meet you outside in a few minutes?"

iv

[be_seeing_you]

He can almost feel himself dying beside her as he holds her hand, clutching it for all he is worth even when her particles pass through him and don't connect. He's here. She isn't alone. He'll never let her suffer this alone.

His free hand fidgets with that ring in his pocket. He could put it on. He could take this pain from her right now. But they decided against it. They had to know how long. Yet, as the seconds grow longer and shorter all at once, he finds the circle of metal in his pocket more and more irresistible. One little slip of the finger and he could save her. The only thing that stays his hand is knowing it would mean she'd have to go home alone tonight. Sleep in their bed alone tonight. He can't put her through that. Not this time. Not yet.

"They say we are made as the same stuff as those stars," he tells her in a low and soothing voice. "They want you back, but you're mine. You'll always be mine. No matter what happens."

[decohere]

She knows what he's thinking, knows the temptation that she's firmly denied. Because if their positions were reversed, she's not sure she'd be able to prevent herself. It's all so unfair, a solution in the form of a sacrifice.

But they're used to this now, aren't they. A monthly ritual, enduring the suffering. She's not as afraid as she was the first time she faced this fate. But she had forgotten just how agonizing it was, to lose herself to the laws of physics trying to correct the mistake of her existence. She can't even manage to cry, because she simply has no energy left to produce tears. Just weaker and weaker whimpers.

Even as her vision glitches out, she watches the specks of light in the night sky dance with wonder, smiling at his words. He's right, though the stars are so beautiful, it's here with him that she belongs.

"Peter..." the name feels good, to say, to hear from her voice that sounds so far away now. She turns her body, just barely, toward him.

"I don't... want you to go through this." She needed him to see it first.

[be_seeing_you]

His chest rises and falls with a heavy breath. So many things he wants to say, none of them seem like enough. Nothing he can say will stop this slow tragedy playing out to completion. If not for the reassurance that she will return to life, he fears he might go mad the moment he can no longer feel her skin against his.

"I know." His voice creaks like an old hinge that hasn't opened in thirty years. He mimics her movement, turning to face her, to look her in the eyes. "But you cannot ask me to do nothing but watch when I have the ability to do more. Not every time. We share our burdens equally, Ava. We always do."

I wanted it to happen

[sunshinesally]

Sally's in the library shopping around for childhood speech development books. Gwen herself is somewhere else--- with one of the members of her army of volunteer babysitters. Max, specifically, gets baby duty today. But Sally is here looking for reading material to prepare for Gwen learning to speak--- something that is coming very soon, right after walking.

On her way to a table, she passes by Ava and spots a romance novel, a twinkle in her eye of interest. She can't help it. Mushy tales of true love sprinkled with flowery, depraved smut were right up her alley.

"How is that one? Any good?"

[decohere]

Romance novels are something Ava initially sought out as a pseudo-research attempt at getting herself more comfortable with intimacy and understanding the expectations in a romantic relationship. She quickly realized she didn't particularly relate much to any of beautiful blossoming heroines of the stories, that the dynamics didn't quite align with hers with her husband.

But. There's something enjoyable about how uncomplicated it all is, when her life has been so heavy with violence and voluntary suffering. Ava laughs, slightly embarrassed. "It's a bit weird so far..." Ava admits. "I never get used to the words they use to describe-" she lowers her voice very very quietly, because it is a library, "penises."

i...

[dynamiteabs]

          There were a few ideas Jamison had brewing in his mind about what he wanted to build for himself in this new world, but since the internet hadn't yet been invented, it was off to the library he went to do some research.

          As he went around collecting the books he'd need, he noticed the woman who kept pausing and looking over the edge of her book to do some people-watching. And when Junkrat recognized exactly what she was reading, a playful smirk formed on his lips and he couldn't help himself. Leaning down to read over her shoulder, he whispered, ❝ Ya' got to the part where loins start burnin'? ❞

[decohere]

Well aware of being approached from behind because you don't survive long as a spy otherwise, it might take him a moment to realize that the woman has raised a ghostly hand to his throat that he's left exposed while leaning over her. Fingers pass harmlessly through skin, but leave enough of a tingle in warning that they're there, that she could make this unpleasant very quickly if he's a threat.

But instead she laughs, almost embarrassed. "Think they might need to get checked for STDs if anything's burning."

I

[notinflictthem]

Someone's reading over her shoulder while she's reading about crop rotations.

"I think the butler did it."

[decohere]

At least it's not during one of the romance novels... because that'd be a very different story.

"Do that again and you'll be the one with the candlestick lodged in your- Oh, Hawkeye!" She knows him so she's suddenly much less offended about being snuck up upon.

iii

[actuallyawolf]

She's not sure what's going on, exactly, but maybe she's heard a rumour or two, and definitely Ava isn't out and about like she was. When Ylva shows up, then, she comes prepared, carrying a basket of things she thinks might help. She also happens to be unaware of stories about baskets of goodies and wolves in the woods.

She gives a shy smile as she comes into the cottage garden. "I, um, came to see how you're doing."

[decohere]

Ava knows that people talk by nature, suspects sometimes even about her. Even if it goes against her ingrained instincts to be a thing that anyone knows about. She's not a spy anymore. She's just a lady out on her farm, poking holes into the dirt and hoping for the best.

She smiles up at Ylva, tired and pained. "Not well, but... it's always nice to see a friendly face." And she can't help it, a curious glance at the basket.

iii

[misbegottendreamer]

What is that sound?

She's heard notes in reverse before, but never so many at once. Forward and reverse, forward and reverse, like an orchestra who individually cannot decide whether they want to let sound to escape their instruments, or if they want to, in defiance of the very nature of their craft, draw the notes back into their instruments and have them vanish into silence. It's a harmony of anti-harmonics, and it makes her skin crawl.

But with that comes more natural sensations- hands scrabbling in soil, the smell of fresh dirt, slightly labored breathing. Curiosity, both morbid an otherwise, leads her to approach.

"Good day, sera."

[decohere]

She weakly lifts her head at the approaching stranger, has to blink a few times to align her vision properly. Quietly takes in the details that she can, the same way she does every time she meets somebody new. To make an estimation on motivations or level of threat.

She's not particularly sure what to make of her. It's hard to focus through the pain.

"Hoping I can make it to night." But she's blinking in and out, like a faulty hologram.