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 Posted: Fri Oct 13, 2017 8:27 am
Connie wished there was something more she could do to help. She wanted to take away Midgard’s pain and anxiousness and everything that bothered him. It wasn’t possible, she knew. There was no possible way that she would be able to do it on her own. Even though he was important to her, she was not stupid enough to think that she could solve all of his problems, that her presence was enough to make things completely better, even if it helped. His presence helped her after all.
“Don’t apologize! We’ll plan right now,” she insisted, showing him a smile as she tried to ignore the heat in her cheeks from hugging him. Was that considered being forward? Should she maybe try to not be as clingy, even though she would be perfectly happy if he was never out of her sight? Again, that wasn’t possible.
Carefully, she lowered her own bag down from her shoulder. She hadn’t been sure about what she was going to be asked to help with, but she wanted to be as prepared as possible. Once the bag was unzipped, she pulled out a green thermos and offered it to Midgard with a sheepish smile.
“I thought we might need something to drink. It’s tea. And I have snacks if we get hungry,” she explained, pulling out a pink thermos for herself. Hot chocolate of course. She also pulled out a ruler, because it was just one of those things she carried around as an art student, and some wooden coffee stirrers she had as leftover from one of her projects, and a ball of white yarn.
“Let’s plot out where you want everything to do. We can make a design and mark the pathways,” she suggested, taking two of the coffee stirrers and holding them out for Midgard to take. “Here. We can use the yarn for better visual.”
Even though Midgard admitted to not having a plan worked out, Connie knew it was important for him to make the first mark. She would help, but this was his project. This was his Wonder and who was.
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Posted: Mon Oct 16, 2017 2:49 pm
Now more than ever, Midgard was grateful for the few people that populated his life. When he'd been in service, he hadn't really had anyone that he cared about in the ways he cared for his friends in his new life. Sure at various points there had been girlfriends but those had been fleeting and temporary.
Hell, his first one had just disappeared on him and the second...she had decided that how he felt and what he was going through didn't matter. But he was determined not to dwell on either relationship, they were in the past and their chapters were over. The person he used to be was buried in an empty grave along with the body of the sister who'd died by his own hands.
For a moment his chest constricted and he thought he had lost the ability to breathe, but then Connie's voice was breaking past his thoughts. Green eyes dropped to the thermos she had thoughtfully packed. Gratefully he accepted it but made no move to unscrew the cap. Instead, he kept watching his companion, a little marveled by her in that moment.
"You thought of everything," he tried to joke, even though he felt a little off balance in an entirely new way. Shifting his grip on the thermos, he accepted the sticks and ran his thumb over them as he looked at the tilled soil that he'd spend hours digging up before he buried the skeletons. "I'm sure the people who I buried deserved better." Some of them, from the positions of the skeletons, looked as if they'd been in mid conversation and had been enjoying life when calamity struck.
"I just want to give them something beautiful to be remembered by."
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Posted: Tue Oct 17, 2017 4:30 pm
In a magical place such as this, Connie didn’t think it would be believable for her to blame the pink tinge to her cheeks on the heat from the sun, so she just smiled softly and glanced away from Midgard to admire the place once more as he looked at her like he was. She wished she could have thought of everything, but the truth was that she hadn’t. She had no idea what to expect and just tried to work with what they had. Coming up with creative solutions just happened to be something at which she was decent.
“We’ll make sure it’s beautiful. You’ve already done so much for them… I’m sure they would be grateful they have you, especially after so long.”
She hadn’t been there. She couldn’t imagine the scene he faced when he pulled bodies into their graves. But with how old everything looked, she couldn’t imagine anyone living there for decades – maybe even hundreds of years.
She felt a little guilty for not knowing, especially since he seemed to be so affected by everything. Connie wanted more than anything for him to be happy.
Leaning down, she carefully pulled at the backs of her shoes to slip them off, and took a step into the dirt, but careful not to disturb the mounds where Midgard had worked to bury each person. This was sacred ground now, and she didn’t
“It might take some time to make this into a proper garden, but…” she paused, shrugging a little self consciously. “I think I would rather be buried in a garden, rather than a cemetery.”
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Posted: Wed Oct 18, 2017 9:27 am
It wasn't until Connie began to move, slipping off shoes and crossing across the grounds, that Midgard was able to return his focus to the task at hand.
"I don't know if I would really say I've done much." His shrug was a little helpless as he looked at the upturned dirt he had spend hours digging up and packing back down. "I made them wait a long time," he sighed, shuffling like he was uncomfortable in his own skin. He was, perpetually, but he didn't want his companion to see that. If he had been worthy when they'd been taken to the surrounding, maybe they wouldn't have had to wait so long to be properly put to rest.
Now, the brunette wondered if there were chronos specific ceremonies when it came to sending off their dead.
Maybe one of the book in the wonder would give him insight, but he would look later, on his own time. He was occupying enough of Connies with this silly, poorly planned venture.
"I don't mind." And he didn't, because as far as he was concerned this was only the start of his attempt to repent for the sins he had committed. Perhaps he would find a place to make a memorial for Labyrinthite's mother, so he could remember her properly and for his sister, the one who's name he couldn't quite recall but he remembered that she always believed in him when no one else would.
"Hard work is the least I can do." He announced, stepping forward and sticking in the first marker.
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Posted: Sun Oct 22, 2017 9:58 am
Connie smiled softly, knowing that Midgard was fighting with himself. There were so many things that he wanted to do and knew he couldn’t, or hadn’t, or maybe hadn’t done fast enough. He didn’t have to say it out loud. She could see it in the way he looked across the graves, the way he spoke, the hesitation in his voice, the longing and despair and loneliness and desire for something more.
At least that was how it seemed to her. She knew she could be wrong. She knew that she didn’t know him as well as she wanted, even if he was the most important person in her life. But she thought she could understand maybe just a little, because those were all the thoughts and feelings she had herself.
“They’re not waiting any more,” she said softly, watching as he made to place the first marker in the ground, and she made her way over with the ball of yarn so she could tie the end of it on, the first step of mapping out the garden.
“Let’s make this place beautiful, okay?” Connie said with a somber smile. They were turning a graveyard into a garden, after all. It wasn’t something to be taken lightly, but she would stay to support him as long as he needed. Nuxaz We could probably wrap here or with your post if you'd like!! <3
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Posted: Mon Oct 23, 2017 1:31 pm
It was easier to settle into silence because it meant that he wasn't going to say something stupid. Still, this was Connie and despite what she believed, the whole process was easier with her there. "I guess not," he mumbled quietly when she tried to reassure him.
Midgard knew what she meant and yet, their deaths were a heavy weight on his soul regardless of his part in them or not.
He hadn't been alive to know them or mourn them and yet, he felt responsible for then all the same. (He wondered if he would ever shake the weight that had startled to settle into his bones.)
He did not think that he would be able to keep himself from feeling responsible for things that were not within his control. If he had been better, smarter, or even just there---
Connie's voice pulled him out of his despairing thought and he nodded, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Okay."
It was time to get to work.
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