[ Mute has at least once before joined Minuet for his standard gargoyle routine, but most nights not. In fact, they tended to be more active at night, more willing to stray further from the flock they knew to be (mostly) sleeping (mostly) safe and (mostly) sound in the barn. They had gone out wandering again tonight after the couch burning. If Minuet had been watching, he would have seen them talking to Yata before diverting their normal wandering route. They go to the very edge of the pasture fence, not to the gate, but rather to the point that gets closest to the forest, where they stand clenching the top rail for a long time. They finally hop the fence and head into the forest. They come out not long later with a small something they take and drop off where Rubato likes to clean game.
Finally, as the pre-dawn light begins to bloom, they come around the back side of the barn.
When they climb up the side, it’s not just that they’re not being stealthy about it, but that they are being artificially unstealthy in their approach: noisy enough that even a slightly dense human could easily notice. They do a pretty decent job of making it sound natural.
Without saying anything, they go to sit down nearby. It’s not touching, not even close, but still a noticeable few inches closer than they usually do. They pull out a knife, and a stone, a canteen, and a scrap of fluffy cloth recovered from the hoodie they were wearing when Bluebell blew bell up.
Still without a word, they start to sharpen the knife. ]
[ He startles a little -- not at their approach, exactly, since he'd seen that coming.
Maybe it's the fact that they climbed up at all, even knowing he's up here. Settled close by. He knows a Mood™ when he sees one, even at a distance, and those usually come with . . . isolation. At least for him. ]
[ Ah . . . well. Sometimes the isolation is even more stifling than the company.
He scoots sideways as they approach, making room for them, but saying nothing. He does eventually flick a blueberry their way, fully expecting they'll catch it without issue. ]
[ Has Mute seen him creep into the Rubato's meat processing area when nobody's around? Yeah. PROBABLY. Is he saying a quiet thank you and apology to every dead animal? DEFINITELY. ]
[ His tone and what they know of him is enough to have no doubt to his sincerity as well. That Minuet understood, even without being told . . . That was good. He seemed to get a lot about the natural world, for someone who had been so deprived of it.
Rhys, for his part, had found their habit a little infantile: a tolerable quirk of an otherwise unobjectionable student. But they had always done it. Even before Rhys, even when they were alone, when they were too wild to speak. It had felt important, like the one shred of decency that strange feral little beast had retained from its short dint as a human.
After everything with Yata, it had felt like their heart had been tied up in knots— bound in tangling, strangling vines of loneliness and total unsuitability for companionship. Minuet’s instinctive understanding, the value they shared without ever having spoken it, made the knot loosen, just a little.
[ He offers them a smile before turning his eyes up to the sky again. It's his default -- watching the sky or scanning the pasture, one or the other, on a loop all night. Their presence certainly seems to be no imposition to whatever this ritual is. ]
[ That look is so practiced, so intentional. Mute wonders what it’s supposed to communicate, and what its indented audience might see. Mute thinks that the smile must communicate to Mute about as much as Mute’s own blank expression communicates to most everyone else.
To Mute’s eyes, his expression is too abstract, too removed from whatever he’s really feeling for them to even parse what the lie is supposed to be, let alone use it to triangulate what truth it might be hiding. As so often the case, particularly with their shepherd, Mute’s internal calculations are missing too many variables to be solved.
The meaning of his silence, though, is clear: in this moment, they are welcome beside him.
And that’s enough.
Stone returns to its path along blade, the steady scrape-scrape sounding not entirely unlike the insects that have quieted down with the approaching dawn. ]
Edited (SINGULAR THEY MAKE SENSE CHALLENGE: REFERRING TO BOTH YOURSELF AND A GROUP OF PEOPLE IN THE SAME SENTENCE ) 2023-08-17 03:05 (UTC)
[ He lets the silence rest for a long while, saying nothing, eyes locked on the pasture below.
But after a while -- perhaps when it seems like they've reached a stopping point on their own blades -- he taps his boot against the awning, a knife popping out of it.
[ !! They shake their head, no they don’t mind, and accept the blade.
The possible implications of this are as follows: A. Minuet is allowing them to do him a favor as part of an ingratiation scheme (good sign, Minuets desires that they like him, and they do) B. Minuet trusts them with their weaponry (very good sign, growing Teamwork) C. Minuet legitimately desires their assistance so that he may keep resting (great sign, increased delegation, respect for Mute’s abilities) D. Minuet is enjoying their company and wishes to give them a reason to continue being here (super great sign, they are having a “nice time”)
The single act (deeply over-thought as it may be) does a lot to further reassure them of their place here. They take a bit to inspect the knife before picking up a different stone to begin polishing. ]
The knife is well-used and not in great shape, so they've got their work cut out for them. Probably not a surprise given he keeps that shit in a boot to be ejected on command. ]
[ Yeeeeah, it takes a while. Even moreso when they have to re-select the best tools for treating an unfamiliar metal. Still, they work steadily until the neglected, chipped edge has been polished away, and the blade is as gleaming and deadly as new. They offer it back to him (handle towards him, blade held with the cloth to guard their own fingers), and keep their hand held out expectantly. They know you have more janky, neglected blades on you, mister. ]
It . . . hurts more . . . if you let the blade . . . stay like that. Slower to die from, longer to heal from . . . more chance for infection.
[ if you are using your nasty boot knife to clean game I sWEAR TO GOD.]
Mm. Anything . . . worth cutting is worth . . . cutting cleanly.
[ their voice is still a little dull and detached, but their expression has gotten a little less pained, their posture a little less tense. The company is helping. ]
[ Oh no. oh nooooo. they just. Nod. and duck their head. and go back to sharpening with careful, even strokes.
The sun is just beginning to peek over the horizon by the time all knives are back in proper deadly order. Each one sharpened and polished and oiled before being handed back. They don't wait for any more after that three, just quietly fold their kit back up and put it away in their hoodie pocket. ]
[ Gives the tiniest hint of a smile as they nod. Then just scootch around so that their back is to his side, lean into him, and pull their hat down over their face.
[ He holds perfectly still at first, before realizing they've dozed off.
Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.
He's not gonna cry about this but he is going to think about it for a long, long time. Rests his hand on their head, briefly, before turning back to his silent contemplation of the pasture.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
featherduster) wrote2023-06-15 02:30 pm
25/26, just before dawn
Finally, as the pre-dawn light begins to bloom, they come around the back side of the barn.
When they climb up the side, it’s not just that they’re not being stealthy about it, but that they are being artificially unstealthy in their approach: noisy enough that even a slightly dense human could easily notice. They do a pretty decent job of making it sound natural.
Without saying anything, they go to sit down nearby. It’s not touching, not even close, but still a noticeable few inches closer than they usually do. They pull out a knife, and a stone, a canteen, and a scrap of fluffy cloth recovered from the hoodie they were wearing when Bluebell blew
bellup.Still without a word, they start to sharpen the knife. ]
1/2
Maybe it's the fact that they climbed up at all, even knowing he's up here. Settled close by. He knows a Mood™ when he sees one, even at a distance, and those usually come with . . . isolation. At least for him. ]
Re: 25/26, just before dawn
He scoots sideways as they approach, making room for them, but saying nothing. He does eventually flick a blueberry their way, fully expecting they'll catch it without issue. ]
Re: 25/26, just before dawn
Re: 25/26, just before dawn
Thanks for the meat.
Re: 25/26, just before dawn
You should thank the turtle. She . . . did all the work.
[ It’s not a rebuff, they are 100% sincere. ]
Re: 25/26, just before dawn
[ Has Mute seen him creep into the Rubato's meat processing area when nobody's around? Yeah. PROBABLY. Is he saying a quiet thank you and apology to every dead animal? DEFINITELY. ]
Re: 25/26, just before dawn
Rhys, for his part, had found their habit a little infantile: a tolerable quirk of an otherwise unobjectionable student. But they had always done it. Even before Rhys, even when they were alone, when they were too wild to speak. It had felt important, like the one shred of decency that strange feral little beast had retained from its short dint as a human.
After everything with Yata, it had felt like their heart had been tied up in knots— bound in tangling, strangling vines of loneliness and total unsuitability for companionship. Minuet’s instinctive understanding, the value they shared without ever having spoken it, made the knot loosen, just a little.
They nod, satisfied. ]
Then, for my small part . . . you’re welcome.
Re: 25/26, just before dawn
Re: 25/26, just before dawn
To Mute’s eyes, his expression is too abstract, too removed from whatever he’s really feeling for them to even parse what the lie is supposed to be, let alone use it to triangulate what truth it might be hiding. As so often the case, particularly with their shepherd, Mute’s internal calculations are missing too many variables to be solved.
The meaning of his silence, though, is clear: in this moment, they are welcome beside him.
And that’s enough.
Stone returns to its path along blade, the steady scrape-scrape sounding not entirely unlike the insects that have quieted down with the approaching dawn. ]
Re: 25/26, just before dawn
But after a while -- perhaps when it seems like they've reached a stopping point on their own blades -- he taps his boot against the awning, a knife popping out of it.
He holds it out. ]
Would you mind . . . ?
Re: 25/26, just before dawn
The possible implications of this are as follows:
A. Minuet is allowing them to do him a favor as part of an ingratiation scheme (good sign, Minuets desires that they like him, and they do)
B. Minuet trusts them with their weaponry (very good sign, growing Teamwork)
C. Minuet legitimately desires their assistance so that he may keep resting (great sign, increased delegation, respect for Mute’s abilities)
D. Minuet is enjoying their company and wishes to give them a reason to continue being here (super great sign, they are having a “nice time”)
The single act (deeply over-thought as it may be) does a lot to further reassure them of their place here. They take a bit to inspect the knife before picking up a different stone to begin polishing. ]
Re: 25/26, just before dawn
The knife is well-used and not in great shape, so they've got their work cut out for them. Probably not a surprise given he keeps that shit in a boot to be ejected on command. ]
Re: 25/26, just before dawn
It . . . hurts more . . . if you let the blade . . . stay like that. Slower to die from, longer to heal from . . . more chance for infection.
Re: 25/26, just before dawn
Don't worry, they're not for using on anything living. But you're right.
Re: 25/26, just before dawn
Mm. Anything . . . worth cutting is worth . . . cutting cleanly.
[ their voice is still a little dull and detached, but their expression has gotten a little less pained, their posture a little less tense. The company is helping. ]
Re: 25/26, just before dawn
It's a good thing I can rely on you to keep my gear in order, then.
Re: 25/26, just before dawn
The sun is just beginning to peek over the horizon by the time all knives are back in proper deadly order. Each one sharpened and polished and oiled before being handed back. They don't wait for any more after that three, just quietly fold their kit back up and put it away in their hoodie pocket. ]
Anymore . . . later.
Re: 25/26, just before dawn
[ Tucking the various knives away, extra careful now ]
Thank you, Mute.
Re: 25/26, just before dawn
Nap time. ]
Re: 25/26, just before dawn
Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.
He's not gonna cry about this but he is going to think about it for a long, long time. Rests his hand on their head, briefly, before turning back to his silent contemplation of the pasture.
Sleep well, Mute. ]