synflux | ( semi-open ) WHITE WHALE HOLY GRAIL

[ it reeks of blood and death.

that's the first thing anyone would notice upon finding their bearings in this certain memory, before the realization that they're in some kind of fleshy, veiny chamber hits them, and it does not take one long to realize that they're inside of some animal thanks to a distant, thundering beating of the heart.

ishmael has been fighting nonstop, her harpoon clashing against the mutated weapon belonging to a certain ship captain with stormy gray hair. blood and various viscera clung onto her person like glue, but they don't seem to slow her down as she recklessly charges forth, letting herself be stabbed repeatedly by ahab, crying out in agony every time as she loses yet another limb, another bucketful of blood -- only for a clockheaded figured to turn back the time and make her whole once more. lather, rinse, repeat.

she can't collapse now. not when ahab spins the narrative around and make it look like "THE FAULT LIES WITH YOU, ISHMAEL!" - from pip's despair, to stubb's eventual submission to the captain, to queequeg. being told that it was her fault that queequeg will inevitably die by the pale membrane that's slowly covering her is ishmael's breaking point, and while she was able to finally get a good hit on ahab and made the woman collapse onto her knees in defeat, it seems that ishmael is about to join her dear friend in the pale, too.

this is fine, she supposes. she knows her own blind obsession will be her downfall one day, and now it has finally arrived. there's just... nowhere else to go from here. not anymore. ]

[ It feels....oppressive, wherever it is he is right now. The air feels thick, suffocating, moisture-ridden, and a strange scent hangs in the air, almost animalistic and alive in nature. The distant beat of something rhythmic in the distance - a heartbeat, the longer he listens - doesn't help matters either, instead making him feel walled in on all sides. Swallowed.

But there's no time to puzzle out his location, not when a familiar flash of orange passes by the corner of his eye and a ringing voice echoes through the air in pain and anger. Whatever else might have been on his mind drops and becomes meaningless, all his attention zeroing in on the figure that runs forward, falls, only to rise and fall again. A cycle, broken finally when the older falls to her knees, but there's no victory to be found, not when something white and cloying starts making its advances like a fungus.

Ishmael.

It's his turn to run forward now, not stopping until he reaches her form encased by a wall of white. Even then his hands remain busy at work, clawing at the membrane as he does his best to rip it away. ]

Ishmael!

[ This better not be the end. He won't let it be. ]

[ this is just like being encased in whale oil again. and just like back then, she embraces the inevitable, waiting for her body and sense of self to dissolve into nothingness.

but it never came. instead, someone is peeling away at the pallid membrane, and ishmael squints at the light that shone around her savior. dark hair, a scar on his face and plenty more on his arms - he's obviously no heathcliff, but ishmael's still-addled mind doesn't question it for now. her lips tremble as she forces herself to speak with a hoarse croak. ]

When... when did this happen...? When did it... I-I didn't realize...

[ she's supposed to die here. there's nowhere else to go. why save her now? ]

[ tags back my het too before i go to sleep

He claws at the white casing until it peels and gives way, a crack forming and growing larger with every passing second. His movements don't slow until the resulting hole is big enough to see through, the alarm on his face easing up when he's finally able to see her face again. ]

Ishmael.

[ A repeat of her name, but instead of worry there's relief in his voice this second time around. Relief that she's still alive and still coherent enough to speak. ]

Are you alright? Can you move?

[ Actually, hang on, there's still so much of this white stuff, he better get back to work on peeling it away. ]

[ she's surprised she's still coherent. but the more wriothesley tears off the membrane, the clearer her head became, and the sheer amount of memories and emotions that come flooding back to her is so heavy that she staggers on her feet, her knees giving up on her as she's about to collapse on the sinewy floor beneath them.

so yes, she can move. kind of. ]

Why... [ she whispers, her voice distant and empty. she looks through him as if he isn't there. ] There's nothing left for me here. I'm going to lose them again.

[ shouldn't she join them too? so that all of this can finally stop. ]

Edited 2024-06-02 08:21 (UTC)

[ Damn, can't believe he has to play the role of knight in shining armor and sweep her off her feet before she collapses on the ground.

Just kidding, he does catch her but there's nothing particularly graceful about the act, just a single hand shooting out to grab her by the arm. Then it's a matter of tugging her through the opening, the force and weight of her body ripping open the membrane more, until there's no space left between them and he can properly wrap his arms around her for support. ]

Don't say that.

[ He means for the words to be reassuring but they come out a little sharper than intended, the futility in her own voice striking an unhappy chord in his own heart. ]

You have your whole life in front of you still. The whole world left to explore. [ A boundless ocean to sail, with whatever friends she chooses to keep at her side. ] If there's nothing left for you here, then…..find somewhere else. A new place where you can see the sun rise and fall, and where you can lower your anchor to rest.

[ the reassuring words and the warm hug feel alien to her - not just because she thinks she doesn't deserve them, but the gestures on their own feel too intimate at a time like this. no one, not even her fellow sinners on the bus and their manager would ever wrap their arms around her for a hug. only queequeg had ever done it to her, the person who ishmael cherished more than anyone else in the world.

and now, right behind wriothesley, ishmael can see her dearest friend lose herself to the pale. ishmael weakly pulls herself from him and staggers forth, collapsing to her knees at queequeg's side and apologizing profusely, tears finally streaming down her face after being held back for so long. queequeg speaks slowly as she's come to accept her fate, and makes one more request for ishmael.

suddenly, wrio is pulled into yet another memory - a brilliant sunset at the sea's horizon, a younger ishmael with much shorter hair and dirty overalls, and a queequeg with a bright smile on her face as she asked for the redhead's name. and, well, who was ishmael to deny her that?

the memory within a memory doesn't last too long, though. the ishmael of this current dream tearfully introduces herself the way she always does to anyone she's ever met, and when queequeg finally succumbs to the pallid membrane, the entire dream melts along with her as wriothesley was yanked back to the actual present. the first thing he'll hear is ishmael's own quiet sobbing right beside him, her head leaning against his shoulder. the rest, meanwhile, had already hopped off the vans to prepare dinner with the others.

this is why you shouldn't nap during the late afternoons, y'all. ]

[ consider just never napping at all?

It's a whirlwind of emotions that surround him, the layering of an older, surely cherished memory atop a newer, more heartbreaking one enough leave an ache deep in his heart. She'd touched on the subject of losing her friends and crew briefly before but it's only now that he understands the depth of that loss, one never to be reversed.

He's not sure when he becomes cognizant of the change around him, the dissipation of her memories as the reality of their sandswept journey returns to envelop them once more. He can't say he really cares when Ishmael is still softly crying beside him, the pain of her heartbreak enough to transcend past the bounds of her dream. Carefully, he shifts just enough to loop one arm around her and pull her closer, an echo of the hug he'd given her in the dream. His head dips down to come to a rest against hers, cheek nestled against her sunset hair.

No words fill the air as they sit like this, Wriothesley waiting patiently for Ishmael to cry out the last of her tears. ]

[ but naps feel so good, though...........

and ishmael would really appreciate one right now, let's be real. back on the pequod, most of the sailors would just leave her alone to cry as they carry about their business. every hardened seadog had to begin somewhere, and the sooner she gets the tears out of her system, the better. the decks won't swab themselves, after all.

she's a quiet crier, at least. her arms come around wriothesley's shoulders in return, letting his warmth envelop her as she sobs onto his shoulder until it's damp with her tears and snot. ugh, she's an ugly crier too, come to think of it. but thankfully it doesn't last as long, and ishmael's crying soon devolves into mere sniveling as she swallows around the large lump on her throat. ]

...Water.

[ she croaks. okay, time to get her shit together like always. ]

[ She'll always be beautiful to him even if she's an ugly crier on the outside....

But he does as requested, silently pushing himself off the bed to pad towards their water canteen, filling up a nearby glass before heading back to hold it out to her, along with a small tissue box off the tiny cramped table on one side in case she wants to wipe her face off. ]

Feeling any better?

[ He still has a lot of questions he wants to ask, but maybe now isn't the right time. ]

[ she takes the glass from him with a small mutter of thanks, quickly draining the entire thing and setting it aside. she wipes at her eyes with her hands first, before giving up and snatching a bunch of tissues from him to blow her nose in. bleh.

she then goes silent, processing all that just now and with wriothesley witnessing it all, then takes a deep breath as she closes her eyes. she sounds completely hollow when she speaks again, but at least she's forcing herself to say something and that's what matters here. ]

I thought... I thought I'd be used to it by now. I wasn't lying when I said I still get nightmares of it, you know.

[ As she chugs her water and blows out her nose, he takes his seat next to her again. This time he keeps his hands to himself, fingers splayed behind him on the bed in order to give her some space.

He leans back, staring at the low ceiling of their campervan. ]

It never really goes away. These things take time, more time than anyone wants to readily admit. [ A lingering pause fills the small space before it's chased away. ] I still get dreams all these years later.

[ Although that begs the question: ]

How long ago did that happen?

[ The whale, the ship, her repeated attempts at killing her former Captain again and again. Her subsumation by the white membrane. ]

[ hearing that he still gets dreams of his own deep-seated traumas shouldn't comfort her, but it does. when he takes his place right next to her, she automatically leans her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes as she thinks. ]

Hmm. A little while before I arrived here, actually. I was just...

[ she hesitates, but then lets out a shaky exhale. right, she may as well explain. it's okay if it's him. ]

A little after you saw me in that state, I was... prepping myself to kill Ahab. I prepared my whole life for that moment, you know. I wasn't going to let that opportunity go to waste while she was finally down on her last leg.

Edited 2024-06-04 02:20 (UTC)

[ Sometimes trauma becomes a part of you, sinking in roots so deep they become almost impossible to pull out. It's never been something he's proud of, but at the very least he's come to terms with it. He only hopes she can do the same one day.

He glances over, though with her head on his shoulder as it is, all he catches sight of is orange hair. ]

But you didn't, in the end.

[ It's a statement of fact. She'd said as much before. ]

I didn't.

[ she sounds a little proud of that, in fact. ]

Instead, I aimed for the heart of the Whale she's been wanting to kill for herself her entire life. [ she even does a little throwing motion with her hand as she laughs. ] Not that you'd stay there a little longer, but... you should've seen the look on her face. She was screaming and crying that I got to kill it before her.

[ sorry..... she'll always be vindictive as hell, but she can never forget how liberating it felt. ahhh, that felt so good. ]

[ It isn't his victory but he feels proud of her all the same, a small smile lifting up the corners of his lips. ]

Maybe I'll see it next time.

[ Not that he really wants there to be a next time when the abrupt intrusion into someone's personal thoughts and affairs feels so deeply invasive, but if he's going to see anything he'd prefer it to be Ishmael's victories and successes, moments where she feels strong rather than small and powerless. ]

Though if I've learned anything from watching you throw that harpoon [ both in dreams and reality ] it's that I really don't want to get on your bad side.

[ He doesn't want to be turned into a shish kebab, thanks........ ]

Well... we'll see.

[ there's a teasing lilt in her voice as she considers this. like, even though he's her boyfriend, there are still some traits innate in him that she finds mildly annoying. but at the end of the day, that's what makes him him. ]

But you know... [ she sniffles, free of tears as her hand finds his. ] I forgot what you told me in that dream, but I think you said the same thing as my manager did back then. That was the final push that led me to my final decision of not killing her off myself.

[ and it was a hard decision on her part, mind you. ]

There's still so much more to see, even in that shithole we call the City. But I want to see them all anyway. And even moreso in this world I've never been before. So... [ she turns to him, a wide smile slowly spreading across her tear-streaked face ] Thanks. For joining me on this journey to find myself again.

Edited 2024-06-04 12:09 (UTC)

[ It's not like he's never been thanked before over any multitude of small and big things but so rarely has it been so direct like this, an honest show of thanks to a friend rather than His Grace, the Duke of Meropide. Her words make him feel....warm, in a way he hasn't been in a long time.

Carefully, he reaches out and drags one thumb across her cheek, wiping away a bit more of her mostly-dried tears. ]

Any time. I'll be right next to you for as long as you want me to be.

[ Even if they weren't dating, even if they were just friends, it would still be true. ]

[ and in turn, his words stirred something warm in her chest. looking back, it's silly of her to be deathly worried that their friendship would be lost to the winds if she decided to take it to the next level. now, there's nothing to be anxious of. they'll still be friends first, lovers second.

well, sort of. you get what she means. but she's happy that they're lovers too because she can just lean in and give him a sweet, lingering kiss on the lips like so, in the silent comfort of the van. ]

...So. Any questions? Just to get that out of the way. And in case you're going to ask, I'm fine. I usually bounce back pretty fast.

[ because crying and sobbing isn't going to earn her any keep, lol ]

[ Friends first, lovers second, but boy is it sure a close race. She tilts her head forward to kiss him and he responds immediately, one hand lifting to rest his fingers lightly against her cheek.

It might be a lingering kiss but it's chaste in its intentions, and there's a smile on his face when he pulls back. ]

Yeah, just one. How much longer do we have to be in these vans for?

[ Just kidding, maybe his intentions aren't entirely pure. ]

[ haha, wow. he still wants more privacy after all that? this is exactly why he needs to get out more, as much as she'd like to indulge him with other things while they're still inside. ]

Not for long now, hopefully.

[ she pats his knee as she lifts herself off the bed, stretching her arms up wide. ]

Come on, let's help out the others outside. I'm starting to get hungry from all that crying.

[ He lets out a sigh, exaggerated, before hopping off the bed to follow behind her. ]

Alright, alright. But the next time we finally get a room, I'm not letting you out for a day.

[ He's joking.....or is he? ]

[ the door opens, revealing a nice nevada sunset stretching across the humid desert. like the lake, despite the horrid hot weather they had to endure in the mornings, the skies around this time don't look half-bad either. it's gorgeous, even.

she rolls her eyes, half-fond and half-exasperated. ] Yeah, yeah. We'll see about that.

[ on one hand she's excited for it, but otoh... come on. how bad can it be?

(narrator: hehe) ]

Edited 2024-06-05 23:40 (UTC)

( semi-open ) WHITE WHALE HOLY GRAIL

🌇 (cw depictions of violence, death)

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cw suicidal ideation too, sorry

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