Anyway Kaveh is here; he has once again brought warm drinks with him for everyone, and he will of course help make crosses since there are FIVE OF THEM TO BE MADE TODAY. Mehrak is also here with him, floating along behind him with a solemn '_' face. At some point either before or after the prayers (probably after), he'll move off to the side and open Mehrak up to get out some paper, a pen, two tubes of paint, and a brush and start working on some paintings.]
[ unlike last week, she is able to consume food and drink without much issue, so she will take something to sip on. and when prayers are over she will sidle on up to him, pointing at his supplies. ]
[He greets her with a small smile, though it doesn't reach his eyes, and nods.]
Of course. [He's only got the one pen, but he hands it over easily.] These are paint papers, but I can tear out a few pages of my notebook, if you'd rather have those.
[He'll dig out his notebook, then, which is probably getting close to full at this point--but he carefully, neatly tears a handful of pages out for her and passes them over, along with the notebook itself so she can use it as a surface to write on.]
[ she is not the fastest writer, her form still amateurish like a child. does auto-translate even work when you're reading an unfamiliar language? hm. anyway she's writing in arabic, though the phrases she uses are short. simple little blocks of text, presumably separated out for different members of the dead.
then she'll fold up the pages and return kaveh's things.
[If only Teyvat language was real. Then he would have recognized that Yang Guifei is Chinese, and would also be able to read this.
But he just watches her down this with a touch of sadness, then nods in thanks, taking his stuff back. He reaches out--slowly, so she can indicate it if she doesn't want to be touched--and, if allowed, will lightly touch her arm.]
I was going to buy some more supplies from the reapers tomorrow, if you'd like me to get you anything. [Any supplies of her own, since... well. It doesn't seem like de-escalation is likely.]
My own lighter, so I can stop borrowing Wolfwood's. [ this is a half joke, but. ]
...I never really thought about it. [ what she needs. she's been told to take care of herself, but getting by and surviving is what she does best. she's long abandoned the idea that she can simply ask for things and get them - too easy, too convenient, too unreal and out of reach for someone like her. it's been five weeks of this and it's one of the few things she has a hard time adjusting to. she's so used to going without. ]
[Kaveh smiles a little, though he nods in understanding.
It's meaningful, and important--remembering the dead like this, saying their own goodbyes. But it won't bring them back. Sometimes, that awareness weighs far too heavily. But at the same time... how could they just lay down and give up? Would it not infuriate those who left them behind, if they did? What purpose did it serve, enduring all of it, up to this point, if they stop pushing forward now?
It's just... complicated. Messy and miserable. He doesn't care what the reapers say; this is no privileged opportunity.]
[ it's not something entirely beyond her understanding for once. it's a nice gesture, all the same, and if she were any mood to she could kick herself for not thinking of it first. it's a good way to keep a fire going, albeit a little one, and that's something she could learn to tend to more. though she doesn't think the dead will be too upset with her when they aren't fire beings to begin with. but still, this is the only way she knows how deal with something like this. memorializing loss and grief. ]
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Anyway Kaveh is here; he has once again brought warm drinks with him for everyone, and he will of course help make crosses since there are FIVE OF THEM TO BE MADE TODAY. Mehrak is also here with him, floating along behind him with a solemn '_' face. At some point either before or after the prayers (probably after), he'll move off to the side and open Mehrak up to get out some paper, a pen, two tubes of paint, and a brush and start working on some paintings.]
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Can I borrow these?
[ pen and paper, specifically. ]
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Of course. [He's only got the one pen, but he hands it over easily.] These are paint papers, but I can tear out a few pages of my notebook, if you'd rather have those.
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[ he writing isn't great, but. something to put her thoughts down. ]
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[He'll dig out his notebook, then, which is probably getting close to full at this point--but he carefully, neatly tears a handful of pages out for her and passes them over, along with the notebook itself so she can use it as a surface to write on.]
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[ she is not the fastest writer, her form still amateurish like a child. does auto-translate even work when you're reading an unfamiliar language? hm. anyway she's writing in arabic, though the phrases she uses are short. simple little blocks of text, presumably separated out for different members of the dead.
then she'll fold up the pages and return kaveh's things.
and go set her letters on fire. ]
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But he just watches her down this with a touch of sadness, then nods in thanks, taking his stuff back. He reaches out--slowly, so she can indicate it if she doesn't want to be touched--and, if allowed, will lightly touch her arm.]
I was going to buy some more supplies from the reapers tomorrow, if you'd like me to get you anything. [Any supplies of her own, since... well. It doesn't seem like de-escalation is likely.]
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...I never really thought about it. [ what she needs. she's been told to take care of herself, but getting by and surviving is what she does best. she's long abandoned the idea that she can simply ask for things and get them - too easy, too convenient, too unreal and out of reach for someone like her. it's been five weeks of this and it's one of the few things she has a hard time adjusting to. she's so used to going without. ]
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It's meaningful, and important--remembering the dead like this, saying their own goodbyes. But it won't bring them back. Sometimes, that awareness weighs far too heavily. But at the same time... how could they just lay down and give up? Would it not infuriate those who left them behind, if they did? What purpose did it serve, enduring all of it, up to this point, if they stop pushing forward now?
It's just... complicated. Messy and miserable. He doesn't care what the reapers say; this is no privileged opportunity.]
I was thinking of asking if they had any incense.
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[ it's not something entirely beyond her understanding for once. it's a nice gesture, all the same, and if she were any mood to she could kick herself for not thinking of it first. it's a good way to keep a fire going, albeit a little one, and that's something she could learn to tend to more. though she doesn't think the dead will be too upset with her when they aren't fire beings to begin with. but still, this is the only way she knows how deal with something like this. memorializing loss and grief. ]
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[There is so little he can offer, nothing he can actually do to make any of this better. But he can't help wanting to try.]
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