|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 16, 2015 7:25 pm
Oliver sniffled, but that was the only sound he made as he rubbed tears from his cheeks. There was no more flinching away from her touch. The gentle hand on his head was probably the most familiar form of reassurance, at some point most of his friends had come to use a friendly pat or casual hair ruffle in greeting, or to tell him things would be okay. Peyton was right though, right now he wasn't okay. " S-sorry..." he whimpered in a tiny voice. It felt like so many people had made so many mistakes with him, his division with the promotion, Lex letting him out of the infirmary... Even himself for thinking he might be able to pull his own weight if he just worked himself hard enough.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 16, 2015 7:44 pm
He wasn't flinching away from her, it was something at least. Enough For the smaller girl to give his shoulders a tug as she sank back onto her heels, pulling him into a loose hug as she smoothed her hand through shaggy hair. "It's alright." Everyone broke down sometime, especially here. And who could really blame them? Facing off against nightmares, risking their lives, skirting death. Nightmares were a part of the job, she had her own that plagued her. "We're all scared, every one of us. We've all been there." Anyone that said different was either too new or lying. She hated that she'd caused this. He'd been doing so well, and everything had gone all wrong so fast. She didn't know what he'd encountered, but something that fought with blades. Something that had hurt him, or someone else in front of him. Maybe both. "I'm sorry."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 16, 2015 8:18 pm
It was hard to tell how much comfort Oliver took from the gesture, he didn't lean in closer or cry any louder in the presence of a sympathetic shoulder. He wasn't yet familiar enough with having comfort to know what to do with it. But whether the hug soothed his nerves, or if it was just having somewhere to hide his face, the shaking slowed down until it was nothing more than the occasional tremor or emotional hiccup. He scrubbed at his cheeks with the back of one sleeve, merely smearing tears across his freckles once the cuff became too damp. Finally he took a deep, shuddering breath. "C-can we... t-try a-again... later?" Oliver asked, his voice shaky. He was afraid to look up, and had almost been too afraid to ask for more help when he had already caused such a fuss.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 17, 2015 9:09 am
When his own attempt to wipe away tears failed Peyton brushed her thumb across her cheek, chasing away the year tracks. An incredibly familiar gesture, automatic and thoughtless. "Of course we can, whenever you want. That's how we get stronger, right?" She smiled at him reassuringly as she cleared the tears from his other cheek. "Really, I always available, so whatever you need, just send me a message, okay?" It seemed the small Sun had just adopted another trainee.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 17, 2015 5:01 pm
Oliver nodded, with a little quiver to his lip. Sometimes when there was so much emphasis on fighting and surviving and being 'strong', he forgot there were still gentle people as well. If he was ever going to be a solid teammate people could rely on, he needed that gentleness more than he would ever need tough love. The tear-free cheeks only lasted a moment, when he rubbed his eyes the damp sleeve set it back a step. "I-I don't... want to panic," he hiccuped miserably. As he relaxed, Oliver's heels slid forward in the dirt, and he slowly uncurled. He let out a shaky sigh. Then he rolled up one sleeve to reveal a couple long, pale scars crossing his forearm, defensive wounds that looked to be about the same age as the scar on his face. There were more scars just the same still hidden under his sleeve, and on his body. Every time he looked in the mirror he was afraid all over again. " I-it was... a-a d-dagger..." He muttered quietly, by way of explanation.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 17, 2015 5:41 pm
Fingers brushed tussled hair from his face, and she made another pass along his cheek to clean up the moisture he'd just reintroduced. "I know." She'd been there, walked in his shoes before. She knew exactly what he was going through, and of course she sympathized. As he uncurled she leaned back, settling on her knees beside him and lifting a curious brow as he began rolling back his sleeve. Suddenly it made since. His arm was a criss cross of shiny new scars, and where their were few, there were many, some disappearing upward, one along the bridge of his noes. Someone had tried to hack pieces off the poor boy, tearing into him as he'd tried to defend himself. No wonder he'd panicked when she'd summoned her daggers. ""I'm sorry," she said again, touching his arm gently. Her lips pressed together as she tried to think of something useful to say, but in the end she didn't say anything. Instead she reached up and hooked a couple fingers into the neck of her shirt and drew it down over her left shoulder to bare the thick, jagged scar that ran down her collar bone. "I've been there. It get's better." She remembered a sword erupting through her chest, through Lucky's, and watching the light fade from his eyes before everything had gone black. Blade and teeth tearing into her shoulder, damn tear ripping her arm off. A giant hand pressing down on her thigh, a slow continuous pressure that didn't ease until her femur had shattered and muscles separated. Not all her scars were visible, but they were all deep.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Feb 18, 2015 8:33 am
Oliver pushed back down his sleeve miserably. He kept hearing that the scars were something he could be proud about, a reminder he had survived. Not just that, but he had won, and kept two lives safe in the process. When would he be able to feel like they were marks of victory, not just marks of a victim? He glanced over as she tugged at the collar of her shirt, and for once his pale eyes were clearly visible after she had brushed aside his bangs. But instead of feeling reassured, the sight of the scar brought fresh tears to his eyes. The thought of someone so small having to deal with such awful monsters just tore him right up. It must have been so frightening... Instead of words, a squeaky whimper escaped Oliver's throat.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Feb 19, 2015 9:35 am
That was not the reaction she'd been going for. "Oh no, Oliver, I'm sorry." This was not going well. She let the shirt go so it slid back up and reached out to give his leg a gentle pat, expression almost pained. She wanted comfort him, not make him cry more. "Hey, it's gunna be okay." More often than not, that was true. "How about I walk you back to the dorms, yeah? Or where ever you need to go." She wasn't sure if he had other duties scheduled.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Feb 19, 2015 1:45 pm
At a glance Oliver might have looked the part of a tough, axe-wielding, monster-subduing fighter with his lean physique and newly earned scars, but it was safer to call him a finely tuned scientific instrument. Highly sensitive, very delicate, and occasionally wound too tight for proper functioning. He nodded, unsure if he could believe Peyton's reassurance, but willing to accept it just the same. Any little comfort on the island was not something to be turned down, and in this case it was enough to head off a second crying spell. "I-I don't... um... d-don't have anywhere I n-needed to be," he hiccuped, eyes cast downward. Why couldn't he just learn to save his tears for his room, where nobody else had to see them?
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Feb 19, 2015 3:10 pm
Getting to her feet, Peyton offered her hands down to him so she could help him up. "Come on." Small fingers wiggled encouragingly. If she could have figured out some way to make him smile, there wasn't much she wouldn't have done to achieve it in that moment. The poor kid looked absolutely miserable. "You know, I made brownies yesterday, do you want one?" Maybe a snack? It wasn't a cure all, but maybe it'd help? Hopefully it couldn't hurt... She'd already made him cry enough today.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|