Impromptu Oran Sleepover

[quirkynote]

Who: Oran newbies
What: Having fun with communal dens
When: Sometime after Mightyena gathered them up
Where: The Spire, low tier dens
Warnings: Will add if anything comes up, but not anticipating anything

[As everyone knows by now, the Oran Berries depend heavily on communal living, sharing a bed is simply to be expected. For some, this experience was temporary. Mightyena was kind enough to lend the mysterious misplaced Pokémon a place to rest, but now some of them have moved on.

For others, this is now a part of life, and it's time to get used to it. The Oran Berries value treating everyone like friends and family, after all, so you're expected to do the same! Why not have some fun with it?

Whether you've noticed your fellow newcomers are all gathering in one den, or you suddenly find yourself dragged into the the party against your will, everyone is invited! Everyone's going through the same thing, belong to the same guild, you gotta stick together.....right?]

[[ooc: Feel free to use this as a mingle log! We have nine Oran Berries (I think???) and although the dens are said to hold up to eight, I think some members are small enough that we should be able to include everyone!]]

Comments

[offtracks]

Ah...I think this is tea?

[Ingo can't smell what's inside the jar exactly, but it's definitely some sort of dried leaves? Either it's tea or it's some kind of herb and they're about to have a terrible beverage! Cautiously, he tries to take it down and sort of...roll it back over to Emmet.

It's not okay. It can't just be like nothing ever happened. If they were close enough to live together, didn't something serious happen? But now that the moment has passed, he isn't quite sure how to go back and...

...and what? Insist that things not be okay? That sounds like madness, doesn't it? Maybe Ingo really should just stop and let things be...whatever this is, between the two of them. It feels strange and uneasy to him, but Emmet must be alright with it,. Isn't that what matters? Maybe it was always this way, and he's just aiming for some ideal that he made up entirely in his own mind.]

[outbounds]

[ Is that how they're doing this. Well, surely the jar's sturdy enough for it. Emmet perks up to full attention, anyway, rousing himself enough to keep the jar from rolling anywhere it shouldn't. Tea or herbs, moment of truth...

Do they have cups, even? Is he supposed to put the leaves into the jug now, are they just using the water container as a sort of pot? That's fine, sure, he can do that, but will they be drinking out of that too? They really just rushed into this, didn't they. ]

Maybe. We should also look for smaller ... cups? Dishes? So we both can drink.

[ Maybe he'll try to look for them this time. Hopefully nothing gets dropped. Looking through the shelves again leaves him with his thoughts, but...

Something did happen, but it's fine. Nothing on that shelf. Something did happen, but they're fine. ... Aren't they? (Saucers and plates on that one.) If they aren't, then he just needs to figure out where to pick up the slack. He is Emmet. They should be okay. He should be okay. Ingo's been fine on his own, more or less, and so has he. (Oh. There they are.)

They should be better than they were, now. So why... ]

... I'm just glad you're all right. [ he says, coming back over to set carefully down the two mugs he's managed to find. His gaze stays low, fixed on the tea. ] You know. I don't remember if I said it already. Everything else, whatever else— less important than that.

It's nice, not having to wonder.

[offtracks]

[Yes, this is probably the worst planned and organized tea-making Ingo has ever attempted! He turns to search the shelves for dishes as well, quieter this time until Emmet finds them first and he turns back to the fire as well.]

...this is not really ideal.

[He dumps some leaves in the makeshift pot anyway. They'll just...deal with it. He guesses. He keeps his eyes on the embers as Emmet speaks, trying to determine the most appropriate course of action.]

I can understand that. People go missing in the wilds sometimes. It is not...good, to find a body, but it is better than finding nothing at all.

[He knows how it works. He knows five years was an absurd amount of time to hold space for him. That space wasn't exactly for him, though, was it...? It's for the man he was before.]

[outbounds]

It is not ideal but it is what it is. Truth does not stop being the truth because you dislike what it is.

[ And how.

Emmet yawns again, and settles back down to wait for the brew to steep. ]

Hmm. Finding nothing. [ Certainly found a lot of that. Negative space for anxious minds and true crime podcasts and who knows what else to fill in the blanks of. ] Room to wonder, yes. Wondered if it was my fault. Wondered if you were out there waiting, or in trouble, and I just wasn't looking in the right places. Wasn't looking hard enough. Or maybe if I had done something different. You wouldn't have had to go alone.

Still. No body meant there was still a chance. Even if it was small. And here you are.

[offtracks]

Here I am.

[It would have been kinder to have left a body behind, perhaps. That's...not something that could work, from a purely physical perspective, but the Ingo from before seems gone nearly as surely as if he'd died. If he'd done it properly, Emmet could have moved on.

Maybe that's cowardly of him to think.]

Well, I do not see why it would have been your fault.

[He can't know that for sure. Maybe they'd been fighting; he doesn't know. But it seems important to reassure him, because now that they know what happened, it's pretty plainly not anything either of them could have accomplished on their own. Something must have happened to him.]

[outbounds]

[ A single eye blinks at Ingo, a little curiously, maybe thoughtfully, the other obscured by softly waving fur. ]

Well. Dreams aren't logical. Late night thoughts, not so much either. You know too, don't you?

[ The kinds that find you once the sun's gone down and there's no work left to do, nothing to keep busy with. Wondering, wondering. If he'd noticed sooner, if he'd been with Ingo when whatever it was happened... ]

Like right now. You are thinking something ridiculous, I think. Like I would have been better off if there was no reason to hope.

[offtracks]

[What the fuck, is he a witch]

Oh - no, no. Though, at least then you would have had that closure, would you not?

[outbounds]

[ It's not hard to guess considering the things he's been saying!

But plainly: ] No, because then you would have been dead. No ifs, ands, or buts. No coming back from that.

You being fine— somewhere, anywhere— is better than that. I already said. Everything else, whatever else— [ his mouth snaps shut, mind working to try to figure out what words he needs next. ] I am Emmet. I would not want something as small as a lack of uncertainty if the cost was your certain death.

[offtracks]

Mm, well. When you put it like that, I suppose that is true.

[Or, at least, Ingo imagines it would be true of basically anyone.]

But that does not mean that the uncertainty is itself easy to bear.

[outbounds]

It was not. That is true. But that is on me. Not you.

[ Maybe in some ways, it's easier to try to look for ways they could have done things different. That way, it makes it seem less like it was all up to chance— that these things just happen, outside of anyone's control. ]

I am doing something wrong if you are trying to take responsibility for something like that. We were, are a two car train. But what I do, what I say, that is mine. Not your fault.

[offtracks]

It is hardly your fault either.

[Maybe it isn't his fault. Probably it wasn't - even if he doesn't know what his previous life was like, Ingo has difficulty imagining himself abandoning everything and everyone without a word no matter how unhappy he might have been. But it certainly was not Emmet's fault!]

[outbounds]

I know that! I do. What I mean is—

[ A faint noise, low in his throat. ]

I am not saying this right. Sorry. [ He glances to the side, somewhat nervously, ears flattened and posture apologetic. ] This isn't ... it's not very cool of me. You weren't supposed to worry because it wasn't supposed to be a big deal.

[offtracks]

[Ingo frowns at him. This isn't...that isn't what he meant. Why should Emmet have to be cool about this? It is a big deal! But saying things like that only seems to be upsetting him further, so...]

It's - fine. I'm sorry, too.

[outbounds]

... Silly. That is what I am trying to say you don't have to be.

[ Can be, if he wants to, just doesn't have to be. ]

I've been trying to make this — easy. But right now, I ... Are you unhappy?

[offtracks]

Unhappy? Not at all!

[That seems too strong a word for it! Ingo is simply...uncertain? Perhaps a bit uneasy, in spite of Emmet's apparent efforts to the contrary.]

Why are you trying to make it easy? It cannot be easy for you. It's not an easy thing, in general, I understand that.

[outbounds]

It isn't. That's true. It's not easy, but trying to make it easier where we can shouldn't hurt. But also, if I wanted easy for me, I wouldn't have kept your room for you. Stuff like that. I am Emmet. I like winning, more than almost anything else.

[ the direct emphasis on him, though, and the question of why ... ah, he can't duck out of this very well, can he? not unless he tries to do something like pretend to or actually doze off mid conversation. ]

Mmm. Let me explain. Please? Need a moment to figure out how to say it.

[offtracks]

Of course.

[He'll wait, then. There's certainly things he could say, would like to say, but that doesn't seem very helpful.]

[outbounds]

Hmm. Okay. [ He resettles himself, posture straightening a little. ] Your question first. I am trying to make it easy, because why wouldn't I? Why would I want it to be hard? For you or for me? I do not see the point in feeling bad about how things are, because it doesn't do anything. I do not want to be angry, or sad, or afraid, or anything like that. So the fact that it is happening anyway because of these dreams is actually kind of annoying.

[ And only because of the dreams and nothing else, right. ]

But also, what you were saying. Uncertainty being difficult, and how it might have been better if I had closure, or let myself. Maybe! That might be true. I have heard it. 'I'm sorry for your loss.' 'This isn't healthy, Emmet.' 'Are you okay? How are you holding up?' 'It might be time to accept that he's gone.' A few days, weeks, months, years— time to move on! I am Emmet and I have heard it all and I understand—

[ Red fur ripples, counting out the seconds in time with his words. ]

I got tired of it. Tired of worrying people, tired of them acting like I was made of glass. So I reassured them. I am Emmet, I am a Subway Boss. Operating at 100% capacity. No need to worry.

But I wanted to hold space for you so I did. The feelings that come with that, they're on me. I wanted to and I chose to. That's what I meant earlier.

[offtracks]

[Ingo watches the red fur as it ripples. Emmet makes things sound so...simple? As if a person can decide they don't want to feel a thing, and then it goes away, just like that. Plainly it did not. He may as well have been dead; a person doesn't maintain a room for years on end because they're operating at 100% capacity.]

That sounds as though you were not doing well at all. Dreams or no dreams.

[outbounds]

Haha. You too, huh? I didn't want to say anything, you know. You weren't supposed to worry because you have your own stuff to deal with.

[ In an ideal world it would work that way. Mind over matter, this is hardly the time for misplaced and, more importantly, unnecessary grief, so it will not happen. Simple, clean, no fuss, no messiness. He's already done his fair share of it. Hasn't he? ]

I will be fine. Maybe— maybe it isn't right now, but I will be. Promise.

[offtracks]

...you should probably do a little more than just sit and wait, then. Of course you do not have to talk about it with me - [How could he possibly, when Ingo is the problem?] - but you should find someone to speak with.

[outbounds]

Ingo, I promise, I'll figure it out. I am Emmet; I do not say that lightly. It isn't like— I was just pretending, or anything. I kept everything running. I took care of our Pokemon, I took care of everything at Gear station, I took care of our passengers and employees. I didn't fall apart, or anything like that— [ or at least, if he did, it was privately, and not for long enough to be overly disruptive, ] isn't that enough?

[offtracks]

It is more than enough!

[Ingo keeps on feeling like he's derailed the conversation somewhere without realizing. He should really just pull the brakes. If Emmet wants to insist he's okay - maybe he really is okay. And that just has to be that.]

Of course - it's perfectly fine.

[He reaches, hastily, to try and pour the tea. It's clumsy, and a decent amount spills, but he's at least able to get their cups filled.]

[outbounds]

[ That honestly is the same as how Emmet's feeling right now too, because that's— he can tell when Ingo's trying to convince himself as much as he is the person he's speaking to?

(Right? He can, he thinks. And that was a somewhat abrupt motion for the tea; Emmet almost startles and makes for it himself.) ]

Ah, don't— well, I guess you are a fire-type now, you probably will not be burned, will you...

[ And so the cups get filled. A little clumsily, but they got there, and Emmet accepts one with care to try not to spill it. ]

... Thank you.

[ There's more he probably could, and wants to say, but it also feels like the more he's said, the more things got... Nevermind. Tea first. Maybe that'll settle the both of them some. ]

[offtracks]

Of course.

[He lowers his head to lap carefully from his own bowl; at least that much is a maneuver he's had to learn already. He'll keep quiet too, for the moment. He doesn't know what he's supposed to do, he thinks. He does not know how he and Emmet are supposed to fit together; he doesn't even really know Emmet's shape. Is this really just how he works? Maybe there's nothing wrong at all. How would Ingo know?]