A lot of people have gone missing all at once, it feels like.
Reira's kept her photos updated- she has a lot of them in her bed space now, she's not sure if she'll have room for much longer though- but she's keenly aware that she's not going to be the only one affected by it all.
It seems like everyone's going to be going through something, and the posts that follow on the laptops only serve as a reminder.
Reira can't help but wonder though, if certain people have anyone 'left'. She remembers a good amount about how Harry especially felt about things through the last year, and beyond, and it feels like a good reason to worry.
...
Reira doesn't send a message ahead, in any case. She just trots her way on over to where she's pretty sure Harry will be, and knocks on the door.
Harry doesn’t tell many people about the larger woods cabin, it wasn’t really his business to tell people because it wasn’t his until just a few months ago. But he doesn’t really get radio reception so letting some close friends know where it is important. He should be taking care of the castle but it’s very big and it’s so so empty. He just needed a break. For a week or so.
“Uh hey?”
He calls out, a little surprised, a little tired. Dusting crumbs off his shirt and sweatpants as he gets off the couch. These are the kind of sweatpants you don’t do anything in, not the kind you jog and teach gym class in. It takes him a second to get to the door and crack it open, with one eye peeking out nervously.
Reira gives a small, somewhat fragile smile when the door opens.
She is wearing the fur coat. That one. The one he gave her, and she seems to wear it quite well in her own way. Definitely better than any rich socialite, probably.
"Hi Mister Harry," she starts, still smiling sadly. "Is it okay to come in? I think we both need friends right now."
Harry glances behind him on instinct, like a bunch of trash and dirty clothes could’ve manifested suddenly in his house in response to the presence of a visitor. It’s not that bad. It’s just kind of…sad. Major sad spill in here.
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
He moves out of the way and tries to give her a smile. It just kind of scrunches up his face.
“I should make tea.”
The cabin is simple but spacious, well accommodating monstrous bodies after Abigail's father repaired and expanded the original human made structure. In lieu of couches there are large comfortable cushions padding the floor of a sitting area. The walls are adorned with animal pelts and heads. Not in line with Harry’s aesthetics but taking them down is out of the question. So he deals with their judgmental eyes.
Once the door closes behind Reira a small white cat pokes its head out of the bedroom. She squeaks curiously at the visitor as Harry 'discretely' kicks a pair of pants and a shirt into a corner.
Reira does the polite thing and doesn't follow Harry's glance back, even if it's very very tempting. She also manages to completely miss Harry kicking a few things into a corner while hanging up her coat, instead looking about at all the animal heads and pelts with some quiet admiration.
"Tea is a good idea," she agrees with a nod. "It's a good drink for when people are sad, but also trying to find a way to be not so sad...Oh!"
And there's a cat. "She's cute...Mouse is a cute name..! Have you had her a while Mister Harry?"
COMPOSURE - (It’s a widow move. My husband just died in a tragic accident so I’m going to make tea to occupy my hands.)
The water pump is outside. It’s not far from the cabin but he’s been moving things back and forth from the Dyster house, so he reaches for his key first. Then he checks the canister he went out to fill this morning. There’s enough for two cups of tea, so he fills the kettle.
“Uh no, she was Abigail’s. Her dad found her. Will Tarkin. I think the name is a joke.”
Mouse creeps forward to sniff in Reira's direction and beep up at her. She sounds like an off key rodent. Or like a stuffed animal with a bad voice box.
“…he was really into hunting.”
Not unlike Abigail's other biological dad but luckily very unlike him in all the other ways that mattered. Harry puts the kettle on the stove and pokes at the wood logs below. They crackle pleasantly. The smell of smoke is mild, the whole thing properly ventilated by the meticulous care put into its installation. He wants to curl up in front of it, like a big bear.
“Actually Abigail told me- they met the same day he found her with parasites in Kulen? So when he was talking to her he had a little kitten in his pocket the whole time.”
"Yeah?" she asks, stooping down so that Mouse can sniff her hand. She's careful not to move too fast- she doesn't want to spook a kitty. "Those kinds of names are the best names- I bet she catches lots of stuff then," she says with a grin.
She doesn't move from her spot until Mouse has had her sniffs, but from there she'll stand to go watch as the kettle is set up. It's a very cozy thing, she thinks. She really likes this cabin, she's decided.
"In the pocket..? Oh..!" The fiber optics of Reira's hair turn a multitude of colors- and her voice is soft, even if she's smiling. "...That's how we got Sazha, y'know? ...It was back when I was really little. We had...mn. Not the same as the one here, but there was someone I used to call 'Red Star'- he came back to the house we were at, and his pocket started meowing..."
She almost said Bucky. Almost. But she doesn't want to make things awkward or weird for the other because of something a double did.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Uhhhhh I can't remember a good date for this but it's before the event at least Eyyy
Reira's kept her photos updated- she has a lot of them in her bed space now, she's not sure if she'll have room for much longer though- but she's keenly aware that she's not going to be the only one affected by it all.
It seems like everyone's going to be going through something, and the posts that follow on the laptops only serve as a reminder.
Reira can't help but wonder though, if certain people have anyone 'left'. She remembers a good amount about how Harry especially felt about things through the last year, and beyond, and it feels like a good reason to worry.
...
Reira doesn't send a message ahead, in any case. She just trots her way on over to where she's pretty sure Harry will be, and knocks on the door.
that works!
“Uh hey?”
He calls out, a little surprised, a little tired. Dusting crumbs off his shirt and sweatpants as he gets off the couch. These are the kind of sweatpants you don’t do anything in, not the kind you jog and teach gym class in. It takes him a second to get to the door and crack it open, with one eye peeking out nervously.
“Oh. Hey.”
The door opens all the way.
no subject
She is wearing the fur coat. That one. The one he gave her, and she seems to wear it quite well in her own way. Definitely better than any rich socialite, probably.
"Hi Mister Harry," she starts, still smiling sadly. "Is it okay to come in? I think we both need friends right now."
Straight to the point, for now.
no subject
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
He moves out of the way and tries to give her a smile. It just kind of scrunches up his face.
“I should make tea.”
The cabin is simple but spacious, well accommodating monstrous bodies after Abigail's father repaired and expanded the original human made structure. In lieu of couches there are large comfortable cushions padding the floor of a sitting area. The walls are adorned with animal pelts and heads. Not in line with Harry’s aesthetics but taking them down is out of the question. So he deals with their judgmental eyes.
Once the door closes behind Reira a small white cat pokes its head out of the bedroom. She squeaks curiously at the visitor as Harry 'discretely' kicks a pair of pants and a shirt into a corner.
“Mouse is kind of shy but she’s really sweet.”
no subject
"Tea is a good idea," she agrees with a nod. "It's a good drink for when people are sad, but also trying to find a way to be not so sad...Oh!"
And there's a cat. "She's cute...Mouse is a cute name..! Have you had her a while Mister Harry?"
no subject
The water pump is outside. It’s not far from the cabin but he’s been moving things back and forth from the Dyster house, so he reaches for his key first. Then he checks the canister he went out to fill this morning. There’s enough for two cups of tea, so he fills the kettle.
“Uh no, she was Abigail’s. Her dad found her. Will Tarkin. I think the name is a joke.”
Mouse creeps forward to sniff in Reira's direction and beep up at her. She sounds like an off key rodent. Or like a stuffed animal with a bad voice box.
“…he was really into hunting.”
Not unlike Abigail's other biological dad but luckily very unlike him in all the other ways that mattered. Harry puts the kettle on the stove and pokes at the wood logs below. They crackle pleasantly. The smell of smoke is mild, the whole thing properly ventilated by the meticulous care put into its installation. He wants to curl up in front of it, like a big bear.
“Actually Abigail told me- they met the same day he found her with parasites in Kulen? So when he was talking to her he had a little kitten in his pocket the whole time.”
no subject
She doesn't move from her spot until Mouse has had her sniffs, but from there she'll stand to go watch as the kettle is set up. It's a very cozy thing, she thinks. She really likes this cabin, she's decided.
"In the pocket..? Oh..!" The fiber optics of Reira's hair turn a multitude of colors- and her voice is soft, even if she's smiling. "...That's how we got Sazha, y'know? ...It was back when I was really little. We had...mn. Not the same as the one here, but there was someone I used to call 'Red Star'- he came back to the house we were at, and his pocket started meowing..."
She almost said Bucky. Almost. But she doesn't want to make things awkward or weird for the other because of something a double did.