it's not your act of creation

[beautifullies]

Who: Claire and closed starters + opens
When: September + October
Where: her house in Solvunn, the Horizon, will add more locations as needed
What: An open where Clarie discovers she can control bees (up to 30 ft), an option to bake bread or garden with her, eventual questing, a handful of closed starters and more!
Warnings: Will update as needed
Notes: Please feel free to match the brackets or switch to prose, tag with your heart. Assume wildcarding is on the table, just message me first or hmu on plurk @ babybananas w/any ideas!




look how cute, how adorable, how perfect

Comments

[iustise]

John smiles at her as she enters, his smile quirking sideways as she offers her suggestion, and he wanders his way over to the bar cart to peruse what might be there before selecting a bottle of gin. He adds a splash into his glass, setting it down on the table nearby in case Claire might care to add some for herself, before lowering himself into the armchair opposite, listening as she speaks.

Never had a home. It's odd, to hear her speak of such a concept, when he knows so much about the home she builds for herself with Jamie after the fact. But he understands a little what she means, and what it must have been like before that. In Scotland -- well, that had been Jamie's home, not hers.

John cradles the glass between his fingers, contemplating what he should and should not say, before offering her the small twist of a smile, nodding gently.

"You did," he replies. "You do. You..." He takes in a breath, pressing his lips together as he thinks, before settling on, "You build it together. Much like this place, I think." His lips quirk wider. "History does seem to have a habit of repeating itself, one way or another."

[beautifullies]

Claire releases a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, relieved in a way she hadn't been expecting. There's a version of her living the life John's been careful to avoid telling her too much about, and it settles her to know that whether she stays here in Abraxas or she's forced to go, home will not remain just out of reach.

Adding a splash of gin into her own tea, she smiles, exhaling a soft laugh through her nose.

"What I've built...I thought it was incomplete for a long time. That nothing could feel right, here, without Jamie." After a pause to ship her tea, she finishes her thought, thumb tracing the side of her glass. "I spent so many years of my life believing I needed someone else to be completely myself. It took building all of this to realize I was wrong."

She'd held onto the past so hard, perhaps Boston didn't have to be such a struggle for her, if only she'd known how to let go and rebuild herself.

[iustise]

John offers her a gentle smile, understanding how difficult it must have been for her to find herself here, after having been so long without him. He had witnessed her grief when she had thought he had died, and in truth he supposes that finding herself here was losing him again, in a way. Losing everything and everyone she had known and loved. At least he had had her, but her connection to him wasn't nearly as strong as his had been, when he'd first arrived.

"I have always known you to be a very strong woman, Claire," he says, softly. "Be it circumstance that made you so, or your sheer stubborn determination." His smile quirks at her. "Where you live, when you settle down... Is very much like this place, in all respects. Your garden, your kitchen." His lips quirk. "Your bees. Because you know yourself, my dear. Then and there, and here and now. And you need no man to tell you that."

[beautifullies]

"Thank you for saying that John, truly." She's never lacked for self-confidence (mostly), and while she doesn't often say it to herself, she does know she's strong. But it's something else when others say it to her, never knowing how to respond. Still, she manages to match his smile, taking a sip of tea. Then, in an attempt at humor, she jokes:

"You can't say I don't have a type."

The similarities are striking, both himbos men who have lived their trials and gone through hell and are somehow still alive to speak of it, to have enough room within them to love her. And they're fit. So fit it's nearly criminal she's been this lucky twice. Immediately, she takes a longer drink, shrugging one shoulder casually.