abraxaslogs | [ dec / open ] what even is the point of december without christmas presents?

Entry tags:

[ dec / open ] what even is the point of december without christmas presents?

WHO: Julie + others
WHAT: December catchall
WHERE: Places
WHEN: December
WARNINGS: Language, etc. Specific cws in subject headings.

[ ooc: dec catchall, starters in comments,

bitchcraft or bitchcraft#2753 to plot. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ It probably does not help Sam's nerves that Julie is not just at the top of the ladder, but balancing on the toes of only one foot as she reaches up with a nail gun. It's like whatever sense of self-preservation should be kicking in simply isn't there anymore, or perhaps it never was really there in the first place. She is, after all, from the part of the country where doing stupid, dangerous stunts counts as entertainment because there's nothing else to do. Either way, she peers down through an armful of garland, fires a last nail without actually looking, then begins to descend at a truly impressive speed, beaming. ]

Sam! [ She jumps off backward from the third rung and lands in bare feet on the floor, which is, of course, strewn with all manner of sharp debris. This is what having a toddler is like, Sam, except with slightly better conversational skills and less food stains. So, y'know, keep that in mind if you ever find a lady. She begins to take things from him with a face of concern, like he's the one who needs fretting over. ] Oh my god, why didn't you get Steven to take some'a this? You want anythin' to eat or drink?

[ Does this sound like a manic overcompensation yet? ]

[ no, it really doesn't. like at all. sam watches as she balances up at the top, a frowning immediately pulling at his expression as his one hand holds the ladder steady. if she falls, he's gonna be dropping everything he's holding and that won't be fun for anyone, so he hopes. and hopes.

and then she descends and sam feels like he can breathe again, shaking his head in that way that only someone who had to be in charge of younger cousins can. he pulls the box away from her when she tries to start taking his shit from him and instead moves to give her a hug with his free hand, because that is where things are and now that he can think about literally anything else, they might as well greet each other. ]

I can carry my own shit, girl. Come on. [ sam says it with a kind of easy exasperation, and then a grin. he's down to just poke fun about all this, to help her with some Christmas spirit and some decorating because he definitely needs a distraction after everything, but that is when he catches onto the speed at which she's talking.

he sets his free hand on her shoulder, leaning down to search her eyes for a moment. ] You take something, or are you stressed? [ and then, with whatever it is he finds in her eyes, he sighs and shakes his head. squeezes her shoulder once before dropping his hand. ] I am hungry, though, so you can tell me about it over food.

[ She stands on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck, kiss his cheek, and scoffs when he doesn't let her help carry all these things. Instead, she grabs her shoes and puts them back on before she clears a nearby table of its collection of debris. She does this by just sweeping it all onto the floor with her arm, where it clatters and then disappears. Why she didn't make it disappear in the first place is simple: she had approached all of this as if she were doing it at home. Sure, she didn't go buy all this stuff, but she hung every strand of lights and tinsel garland herself.

She takes a seat and props her elbow on the table, chin in her hand as she looks at him, rolling her eyes. ] No. I'm sober, Dad. Promise.

[ Well, on the Julie scale, she is. She starts drinking Bacardi at 8am, but she hasn't taken any drugs. This is good ol' fashioned avoidance. Ghouls attack and then your FWB gets tortured so you spend all of your money getting him home while your best friend decides you need to learn magic based on emotions that you are very obviously barely in control of at any given time? Well, what do you know, it's Christmas! Decorations must be done, presents must be wrapped, no time for thinking.

It's not that she understands that's what she's doing. She just knows that it's very important this year that she get as hard into Christmas as she possibly can. ] What'd you bring?

[ sam let's julie move, watching as she picks up her shoes and completely clears the nearest table (clears may be pushing it, but eh. this is julie's place, after all. he'll take the free table to set down his box, giving her a look as he starts to unpack it all. ]

So you're just stressed, then. [ another pointed look, as a casserole tray comes out, alongside some homemade eggnog and probably some sort of baked good. and even with her rolling of her eyes and the overly loud presentation of the warehouse. he knows a good avoidance when he sees it, has probably put forth a similar effort himself. ] You want to talk about it?

[ because you know what, julie. all those points? totally valid. in every way. but sam can't tell her that much if he doesn't know it, so for now he's treading that in-between ground of knowing something is off but not sure if its ground to push yet or not. especially when she shifts the attention to his goodies - food and decorations and a couple of small gifts galore. ] Not much. Got my Titi's eggnog - tequila, by the way. Legendary. A chicken spaghetti casserole because why not. And these are just for fun- [ he sets aside the small gifts, wrapped in little bags and tissue paper. ] Nothing all that special but everyone needs something under the tree, right?

[ It's all going to disappear anyway, Sam, it's fine. Just make a mess, who cares. This is her approach to most things in the Horizon.

Her frown is more on the confused side than the truly unhappy side, and she occupies herself by opening the various containers of food. Only the eggnog gets a side-eye; despite her love of nearly everything containing alcohol, she finds eggnog to be a questionable and suspicious beverage. It's just melted ice cream with raw eggs in it, basically! Weird. ] I'm not stressed. I don't have anythin' to be stressed about. Nothing happened to me.

[ Which is probably why she's being so avoidant about it -- she doesn't feel entitled to being stressed. She didn't get kidnapped and tortured. The ghosts didn't attack her. Everyone is learning magic, or at least most people. What right does she have to feel personally strained by it?

She creates some plates and utensils, and her bartender brings over a tray that holds two pitchers, one of sweet tea and one of beer. ] C'mon, it's lunch time anyway.

[ yes, well, sam likes to carry with him some level of realism even if they're in a totally pretend brain world, thank you very much.

also - rude. don't know it till you try it. especially since sam has had way too many experiences of that particular eggnog getting him fucked up. but hey, they don't need to get into that, especially when julie goes on and tries to shrug him off like that sam finds he just sort of comes to a stop in his unpacking. ]

Hey. [ bartender or no, utensils or no, sam's attention has moved entirely to julie, instead. there's a sort of focus to him, too, if she does look over to him, his brows up. I don't have anything to be stressed about she says. yeah, sam's not letting that slide. ] That's bullshit, for one. [ he's heard a bit of what julie went through - from jaskier, from ciri. it's the first time he and her have really had a chance to talk about it since everything.

the food will be there, too, depending on what they decide to do. it's not like it's going to get cold. ]

We can do this the old-fashioned way too, if you want. Get totally trashed until you feel okay enough to actually talk about it. But you don't need to be guilt-tripping yourself for the shit that just happened.

[ It's not about his eggnog! She also never drank it at her family Christmas parties. It's too suspicious -- an entire childhood being told that she can't eat raw cookie dough because of salmonella, but somehow it's totally fine to just drink a bunch of raw eggs because someone put sugar and booze in them? Sounds like a trap. She does drink other festive drinks, wassail and Christmas punch.

Also she always ate the raw cookie dough. Still does.

She very pointedly does not look at him, but when she takes the tray from Steven, the beer has quite clearly changed to margaritas. Probably doesn't go with casserole of any kind, but that's not exactly where her mind is. It's not really that she's trying to avoid it so much as she has been conditioned to completely ignore trauma of any kind, to bottle it up inside until it explodes onto the most convenient target, whereby you completely forget it ever happened until the next explosion. And that's trauma that's actually yours to claim.

This one is not about her. It didn't happen to her. She has no rights to it. ]

It's not bullshit, Sam. I'm not... It didn't happen to me. None of it did. I was just there. I'm supposed to be upset that I'm fine?

[ see? now that sounds like someone who needs to try really fucking good eggnog. she's lucky sam is here, truthfully. he's about to change her life.

( also screw whoever said not to eat cookie dough, cookie dough is great )

or at least - will, once they get to it. because sam sees the very pointed way she avoids his eyes, the very specific way she won't look at him and instead turns to whoever that shade was (sam will remember his name, he swears he will) and takes the pitcher of what is now margaritas, and sam reaches across to take the pitcher from her. set its on the table so that she can't use it to focus on, instead.

conditioned or not, sam waits, brows up, waiting for some kind of response. it's always a risk when you decide to push someone into these sort of conversations versus simply leaving them the room to chat, but sam is worried about julie, and maybe there's some of his own leftover stress at play here. he wants to actually be able to do something, and unfortunately for julie, he's just as stubborn as she is. ]

Yes. Or- no, okay. You're not supposed to be anything. But you're allowed to be upset that you're fine. Just like you're allowed to be shaken up. Hell, you're right here in all of it. I'm halfway across the freaking country, hundreds of miles away, and I'm shaken. [ more than shaken, really - he kind of totally broke down, but he doesn't know if that's helpful just yet so he keeps that piece of information for later. ] You're also manic, or acting manic, which in my experience means you're trying to ignore thinking about something, and unless there's something else I don't know about, then I have a good idea what.

[ a beat, where he definitely does not cross his arms or put his hands on his hips, but the general feeling is there. a moment, an then an exhale. ]

Talk to me, Julie.

[ He may be as stubborn as she is, but he is nowhere near as childish. He takes the pitcher before she can, and she groans loudly, dragging her hands down her face before putting her head down in her arms. This woman is twenty-five years old.

But they also both know that she's not going to get up and leave, either.

Instead, she just sits like that for a minute, then lets out the world's heaviest sigh before she raises her head slightly. She's still hunched over, and she's still not looking at him, but she does gesture. ]

It's different, he was missing for y'all! I didn't even know he was in Thorne until he showed up practically on my doorstep. I never had to worry like that, I knew he was alive, that he was still... y'know, here. [ She folds her arms again and rests her chin on them. ] So what do I have to be upset about? I knew that he'd go back to people who'd take care of him. All I did was babysit.

[ yeah, maybe, but unfortunately for julie sam also has two nephews, one just barely a teenager, and one in that really awesome pre-teen era where they are the most stubborn, obnoxious type of human you can imagine.

he also kind of had to be an avenger for a hit second there. he's still trying to figure out which side had the worse tantrums.

either way, he's patient. he always has been. and he will sit and wait for julie to have her time to pout and/or pull herself together. he sets the pitcher down on the table as he waits, and even if she doesn't look at him when she does finally look up, he is still there. still watching. ]

Yeah- but you did have someone you care about show up on your doorstep nearly torn in half. And you had to handle that- without warning or anything else. That's not nothing. [ he's going to finally walk over to where she's sat down, and sort of squat on next to her. it's fine if she wants to keep avoiding his eye contact, but he's going to make it really difficult for her in the long-run. ] And you did a hell of a lot more than babysit.

[ It can be simplified down to the fact that, if grown men in spandex weren't constantly throwing destructive fits at each other, Sam would still be counseling people who actually have a reason to be upset. At least Julie doesn't fuck up entire cities when she has an outburst, let alone whole countries. And worlds. ~~If only women could be superheroes, the MCU would be two movies total.~~

She appears to be firmly on the "pouting" side of the fence, and is devoted enough to avoiding his gaze that she puts her face back down in her arms. When she speaks, it's muffled and reverberating against the table. ]

Nadine did the work. I didn't do anythin' special. It was just what anyone would have done. [ That's not true, and she knows it. Jaskier and Ciri made it crystal clear that the vast majority of people would never do what she did, but she's convinced herself that she didn't do anything special. She doesn't know how to be that person. That person is better than she is.

She blinks at the tablecloth. If she looks from the corner of her eye, she can just barely see Sam next to her. Nearly torn in half. Julie is possibly the only person outside of the throne room to actually see his back flayed open, the state he was really in. Even by the time Nadine came to stitch him up, Julie had already cleaned his wounds and wrapped them in bandages overnight. She can still see it if she closes her eyes. Just more one more horrifying sight to keep her awake at night, she supposes. ]

I couldn't even get him back to y'all in one piece.

[ you're telling him. listen, he spent two years on the run alongside natasha romanov and wanda maximoff. you don't need to convince sam of anything about how the women are the most capable and powerful of them.

still - julie keeps pouting and sam could get up, if he wanted to. could try a whole different tactic. but he's got a feeling about this and can be patient, so he will simply continue to squat. continue to wait for her to finish pouting, or if not finish pouting, at least finish with her line of denial before he tries again. ]

It's not what anyone would have done. [ he argues, despite how even and non-argumentative his tone is. he would reach for her hand if she didn't have it tucked up under her face, so for now sam just holds his place.

because he doesn't need to imagine what it is she saw - he saw what geralt had looked like after being cleaned up. saw him after julie and nadine had their time. he's seen enough bodies and wounds and blood to know how to fill in the pieces, and they're not pretty. it's never pretty. ]

But that's just it, girl. You did get him back to us. [ and it sounds patient, it sounds fond, but it also sounds like someone who is standing firm and isn't going to budge no matter how much of a tantrum julie wants to throw. he sets a hand on her knee, mostly still trying to get her to look at him. ] And yeah, maybe not in one piece; but if it weren't for you, he wouldn't be back at all. So can you cut yourself some slack?

It's what anyone who cares would have done. He's my... [ Mm, she's realizing that there's not really a good label for what they are, so she just changes tactics instead. ] I care about him.

[ She sighs and finally sits up, though she mostly slumps and stares into middle space anyway. Her hands fall into her lap.

Her understanding of what went down was that she put him through a portal and he got to Cadens almost dead, which she feels responsible for. She doesn't know that he walked through the desert for days instead of calling for help, because no one ever informed her of that part. Her assumption is that she just didn't do a good enough job at what she was trying to do, which of course makes her feel like she didn't do anything at all.

Well, she did give him a bath, which every person in his life can attest was necessary, but that's about it. ]

I'm not -- I just didn't think they could do somethin' like that to someone like him.

[ when she starts off on that, on the distant way she says my, sam merely lifts a brow. he knows, at least in that outsider sort of way, what geralt and julie probably are. it doesn't take a genius to put it together. but at I care about him sam feels a kind of small, fond sort of smile.

her hands fall to her lap, and sam takes advantage for that, slipping his hands around hers and squeezing. ]

You care about him. [ he repeats. ] And he cares about you. Trusts you. And if there's one thing I know about guys like him, it's that they tend to build themselves up to a place where people don't think they need any help. And it bites them in the ass when they do. But when he needed it, he had you, when he didn't have any of the rest of us.

[ is there probably some guilt and a bunch of other shit wrapped up in that last little statement there? most likely. but this is about julie right now and sam can keep going. he will keep going, actually. and hey, don't worry about that little detail, julie - sam's got you.

because that's when he sighs, shakes his head a little. ]

And yeah, okay, I kind of want to smother him for taking all your and Nadine's hard work and just. Completely fucking it over by wandering through the desert without contacting any of us, but. [ sam loves him, he swears. but still, sam thinks about what she says for a moment. looks...tired, all of a sudden. ] That's kind of the point, isn't it? When someone is trying to prove a point, and to really make an impact, they go after the one no one thinks that could happen to. But what happens after is that that person needs to have their own support, who can get them back on their feet and have their back when they need it most. Like you did.

[ and sam looks at her again, still focusing, still waiting for her to look him in the eyes. he hopes she does. ]

So will you stop putting yourself down for being a person, who just went through something pretty freaking awful? This isn't a trauma competition.

[ Look, she doesn't have a great word to describe her relationship with Geralt. She doesn't have a great paragraph to describe it. All she knows is that she did more for him over the course of this than she'd ever done for anyone else (just ask Lloyd), and that makes her feel extremely weird and uneasy. Most of her relationships in Abraxas make her feel that way, if she's honest; she has never been someone who is attached to others, who actually bothered to give a damn. Since she was old enough to realize that her appearance could be weaponized, her entire MO has only been to use people, particularly men, to string them along for long enough to get what she wants, then leave them without ever looking back. It's easy to protect yourself when you never let anyone in, when you exist in a constant survival state. Focusing on the external means you never have to pay attention to what's inside.

And now she has all these connections and people that she can feel things for, and it's all very gross and uncomfortable.

Sam takes her hand and she lets him, listens in silence. She slowly turns to meet his gaze when he stops, her eyes narrowed, and she doesn't say anything for a very long moment. When she does actually speak, it is quiet and stilted, and not at all the point of what he just told her. ]

Sorry, he... wandered... through the desert?

[ yes, well, since when did any of them do a halfway decent job of actually describing whatever sort of relationships it is they're building here? sam's just recently gotten comfortable with friend (after over 8 months you'd think he would), if only because maybe eight months of this shit is going to have a lasting effect, whether or not he wanted to be here.

( except that isn't true either, is it? they're not just friends, these people he's grown close to. family is a bit closer to the truth, but what do they do after? when they disappear? sam can't handle that. not right now. not when this isn't about him. )

they are important to him, just as julie is important, just as whatever this all is - it's important. she doesn't fight him, as he grabs her hands and squeezes. and the question, the question, and sam sighs. ]

Yeah. That ass spent...I don't know. Two days? In that desert on his way to the city. And he didn't call any of us.

[ there is a thinly veiled frustration in sam's voice, but there's also a whole other. story behind that that sam isn't really planning getting into. ]

[ In one way, she supposes it's to be expected. If there's anyone in this world who understands just how quickly bonds form when you throw a bunch of strangers together into an inescapable situation, it's her. She's not sure if people understand just how little time she actually knew Nadine and Lloyd for before she got to Abraxas -- barely a few months for Lloyd. A few weeks for Nadine. It doesn't matter. They're the only living people she has any pre-existing ties to. It doesn't matter that she barely knows anything about either of them, has only been learning since she got here.

So it's not shocking to develop connections, it's just... uncomfortable. Moreso now that they know that any of them can simply vanish without a word at any point. No way to say good-bye, no indication except for the sudden disappearance of everything about their impact on the Horizon, as if they never existed at all. It's dangerous to feel this way, makes her feel skittish and squirmy under her skin. And it keeps happening anyway, Sam and Geralt and Ciri and Jaskier and Susan. Some of them, she's never even seen in person, and yet she gives them more of herself than she gave to friends she knew from preschool until the day they died.

Her jaw sets as she blinks blankly at his response, then lets her head flop back to look at the ceiling with a deep exhale. She can barely parse the conflicting emotions that she is suddenly flooded with, anger and relief and frustration and exhaustion and so much anger that everyone let her think that she had completely failed to get him home safely like she'd told Ciri and Jaskier she would. She mutters under her breath, "That motherfucker," as she looks up, then sucks her teeth and brings her gaze back down. She still doesn't meet Sam's eyes, but it's more in a thoughtful way than before, like whatever distant, fixed point she's looking at is helping her sort things out. ]

That mage better have portaled himself the hell outta Nott, 'cause I'm gonna find him and fuckin' murder him. Geralt too. I spent almost every fuckin' scrap of gold I made cleanin' up drunks and gettin' my ass grabbed for months to get -- and he -- not a single one of you assholes thought maybe I deserved to know? I have spent weeks thinkin' that I fucked it up, because he was... well, he wasn't fine when I sent him through, but he wasn't about to keel over, neither!

[ She is growing increasingly more furious, because that is her default negative emotion, and her words are getting faster and faster, more accusatory. Directly across the table from her glare, Sam's casserole spontaneously bursts into flame, despite no apparent cause. Julie gasps and reacts immediately, grabbing one of the pitchers to throw over it before it decides to spread to the tablecloth or anything else. ] Fuck. Sorry, I didn't mean to do that.

[ that is the worst of it, isn't it? that strange feeling of realizing just how connected the trauma of all of this is making them feel. sam's used to it in a couple of ways - if only because so much of his last few years have been making sudden decisions about people he's only just met. about his entire life coming down to the hands of someone he barely knows. the worst of it, the harder part he's finding, is the disappearing. it's the slowly rising panic that comes with each moment he can't get ahold of someone, until he gets himself into the horizon to check. he knows he's probably become annoying with the brain writing, knows that he's inserting himself into the lives of so many people he'd never known, and won't ever know outside of this place. but if there's one thing sam can't quite bring himself to do - it's to stop himself from caring.

julie still doesn't meet his eyes, but it's for a different reason this time. and sam - sam can recognize anger like this. can tell when it's a better choice to just let her be angry, lets her temper rise and the fire light and then her hands are out of his grasp and sam is watching as she dumps a pitcher of margaritas onto a horizon casserole and whatever other Christmas decorations he'd brought.

sorry she says, and sam is struck - very suddenly - with an image of wanda. of uncontrollable magic. of a girl just trying to process and the chaos it brings. he doesn't look taken aback, or even really shocked, when his attention turns back to where julie's sitting. instead, he just nods. ]

That was my bad- I figured they would have said something, but I should have made sure. They've got...a different idea of okay when it comes to this sorta thing. [ which is...not really an apology. sam knows it won't really help. but he pushes up to stand all the same. ]

But also Julie- I know this won't help, but you do realize you're the only reason he made it at all, right? [ there's something more serious to sam, when he says that. something a bit more professional, a bit more captain america-y. ] I've seen shit like that before, and I've seen it work and not work. The only reason he made it to the city, thanks to his trip out in the desert, is because you fixed him up. I know that doesn't matter, or whatever it is you want to say about it, but it does. What you did for him, mattered.

[ In just barely over a year, Julie lost every single person she'd ever known, walked a thousand miles, ascended in a new society, lost most of those people to what she can only assume was a vengeful God lashing out at them, died, been resurrected, thrown in a dungeon for reasons that she still doesn't understand, gone on the lam, and saved two separate people's lives in less than the span of a month, all while trying to establish and maintain some semblance of a normal life in a world that she doesn't understand or like. She's exhausted, and she just wants everything to stop for a little bit, wants to just breathe without the constant need to look over her shoulder. Without having to continuously try and figure out things that she never would have given a second thought to before.

It also does not help that she has suddenly become prone to accidentally setting things on fire with fucking magic that she's unconsciously controlling with her fucking emotions. Protip, Sam, don't open the magic can of worms, because it cannot be resealed.

She stands there for a moment, quiet, palms flat on the table and supporting her weight. Again, she stares into space, lost somewhere in her head, then seems to snap back out of it. With a wave of her hand, everything on the table resets itself; the casserole untouched, the pitcher full, the tablecloth and everything else dry again. It's this act of restoration that makes her inhale sharply, because she can feel something other than anger beginning to surface inside her. She can work with anger. Not anything else.

Her knuckles tighten, go white for a moment, then she looks back at Sam. Her expression is placid, neutral. ] Right. He's alive. It's all fine. Everything is fine.

[ sam gives her time, because what else can he do? what else is there for any of them to do? everyone has their trauma back home, and sam actually knows some of julie's. knows, at least objectively, some of what she's thinking about. what she's carrying. he knows the basic shape of it, and therefore has some idea of the shadow it leaves over her. but he doesn't know everything, and as julie loses herself a bit in her thoughts, sam just keeps standing there without any assumption or worry about how long she'll need.

and then, apparently, she's done. a wave of her hand and everything is back in its place. but rather than looking to the fixed table, the casserole, the rest of it - sam's eyes linger on julie. notices, out of the corner of his eyes, as her knuckles whiten.

everything is fine. he snorts. ] Everything is definitely not fine, but. We keep moving. [ his eyes go to her face once more, as if just to make sure she's together, before he walks back over to where the casserole sits on the table. he starts serving, like he'd just set all this down and had always planned on eating. ]

So...fire's new. [ he offers her what he assumes is a neutral change of subject, only turning to look at her face again when he's got a plat of casserole. ] That just a Horizon thing, or did you get one of those fancy new abilities?

The world don't stop spinnin' just because of me. [ And therein lies the problem, of course -- Julie comes from a background where she wasn't allowed to not be okay, because life had to keep going either way. Unless something was bleeding or broken, it wasn't more important than keeping food on the table, and emotions were certainly not the kind of thing that warranted time and energy on top of everything else.

Bruises heal, sweat dries, never let 'em see you cry, her mama used to say. Those tears gonna pay the bills?

Taking a seat, she pours herself a margarita and downs it in short order. ] No, it's magic. Not like, the Horizon magic, but magic I'm learnin' out there. It's just that sometimes it kinda... does its own thing.

[ that is the problem, isn't it? sam can't help but hesitate somewhere around that line. and whether or not julie moves on, whether or not she moves and takes a seat and downs that margarita, sam is still sort of just. standing there. just for a moment, before he turns over to look at her. ]

No, it doesn't stop for anyone. [ he shrugs - a small gesture. ] But it can pause- or mine can. If you need it to. [ because of course julie needs a solid, overwhelming helping of sam wilson genuine honesty, doesn't she?

either way, she takes that seat and pours herself that drink and then it's sam's turn - reaching for the pitcher himself. nodding, like any part of magic might actually make sense to him. ] That's kind of cool, though. Are you learning it from somewhere or did it just start up one day?

[ She doesn't know how to accept that kind of sentiment. That she might be important enough for someone to actually take time from their own day to care that she's not fine. Without anything to gain. No one outside of maybe her mother had ever done that, and even then, it stopped once she was old enough to deal with her own issues.

~~Flagg cared. Flagg found her when she was alone, he cared.~~

She doesn't say anything until he changes the subject. She honestly just has no clue how to respond, feels like it has to be a trap or a trick, even though she knows that's not Sam. She knows he wouldn't and yet it still feels like he is. So instead, she refills her glass, takes a more patient sip this time. ]

It didn't just start. Nadine... Nadine got it in her head that I would able to do the kind of magic they do in Nott. I guess other places look down on it, they think it's unstable or like, undisciplined. Anyway, she convinced me to try, but I guess it's kinda like a dam or somethin'. Once it breaks, you can't just close it back up.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ dec / open ] what even is the point of december without christmas presents?

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