[PRP] Solstice (Oliver & Eve) [FIN]

[Melancholies]

The world was different. The world was very different; magic was a thing, people were ******** terrified of it—and they should be—he was still terrified of it, despite being magically inclined himself. He wanted things to go back to the way they were before, when magic was something that exist in weird nightmarish dream lands and he didn't have to deal with it on a daily basis.

Which wouldn't have really worked, because he would have been magical regardless, but it was besides the point. What felt more like some stupid video game before now had real weight—real consequences—and he knew they had to be careful. It was a lot to take in.

Fortunately, there were some constants. Though he had only moved away from Ashdown for a short time before, he remembered Equinox well. He didn't visit enough to be counted on as a regular, but he liked tea and wanted some of his earl gray and, with a cursory google search, he managed to bring the location up again. Maybe that's what he needed—all he needed—a nice cup of tea, something warm, something normal to calm him back down.

God knew he hadn't been sleeping enough; and then there was the weird hand thing. While he made a weird mental note at the now shared space with Biblophile (that was new), he managed to work past it into the store. His hands were wrapped in fingertape still, and the color was a contrast to the rest of his wardrobe (soft colors, autumnal colors, thrift store things turned fashion). Was... Equinox always like this?

He rubbed under his eye. Hard to tell when the lines between awareness and delirium were blurred into each other. Whatever, he'd go busy himself at the counter, try hard not to look like a zombie, that sounded like a plan.

cibarium

i feel like this is really disjointed from headache but take it from me

 

[cibarium]

The small vestibule in the building that separated Equinox's entrance from Bibliophile's could be a highlight of the town on its own: the scent of books and looseleaf teas mingled together here quite nicely, at least for those without superhuman senses. Eve still found it a touch overwhelming. However, she missed her store and was eager to see what it looked like after the news Algie had given her about it, so she had at last started forcing herself to endure the vestibule to make it to her own store.

She could almost never get enough of the scene of tea on its own, fortunately.

Ollie would enter to find the place rather devoid of people save for just one or two people at the tables, so he didn't have to wait more than a moment for someone to see him. A golden retriever in a service jacket brought him a laminated menu of teas to look at while he found a place to sit. Eve wasn't far behind. She'd elected to stay in her chair even though it was the time of the full moon, because walking generally wasn't worth the pain involved.

She was all glinting yellow eyes and pointy ears and fangs, but had a sincerely welcoming tone as she spoke. "Hello, there. There's couches and armchairs in the back area, if that suits you better."

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Oliver wasn't necessarily expecting any of this. He wasn't expecting the dog and he definitely wasn't expecting a women with pointy ears and fangs and the whole shebang. Magic was, undoubtedly, weird. This women, undoubtedly, was probably magic. Given how deep he was in magic, he didn't seem to mind regardless.

He said thank you to the dog (mostly because he was unsure if he should pet it; they always taught you not to distract service animals right? But he did such a good job). "Oh ah, uh— thanks." He cleared his throat awkwardly, finding it hard to focus on conversation due to his inherent exhaustion. Thankfully, this place looked... empty? It was nice, but concerning. He never remembered Equinox being a full fledged tea house.

"Did... this place get a facelift lately?" He inquired genuinely, putting on his good grammar voice. Really he had only come for a cup and some grounds to take back home for his own stash, but—"Sorry, it's been a while since I've come here. I hadn't even realized you changed locations."

cibarium

 

[cibarium]

"Seems it did," answered Eve warmly, taking a cursory look around herself -- she was still getting used to the surroundings, after all. "It surprised me at least as much as it surprised you, trust me. I'm Eve." She offered a hand up to shake. "You were at the sigil casting, right?"

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Oliver relaxed. Something about people mentioning the void both terrified and comforted him. He didn't want to believe it happened still, but it also brought forward a certain solidarity that he wouldn't dare to undermine.

He stared at her outstretched hand, obviously hesitating. His hands were wrapped and rough looking as a result (in reality, they were quite delicate and maintained underneath, something he obviously spent hours doing), but he worried about the touch, about how sensitive his sense was to everything, how he should probably talk to Shiloh about it, bu that was neither here nor there.

"Yeah, I was. It's Oliver. Beau—" His hand firmly clasped Eve's despite the hesitation, but this feeling was completely and utterly inexplicable compared to the weird sensitivity he had been experiencing before. This was warm and familiar and he wasn't sure if he liked it, even though his mind told him he liked it, but when had he ever listened to his mind before? Family, family, family.

He was losing his goddamn mind.

"—mont. B-Beaumont." He blabbered through his excruciating confusion.

cibarium

 

[cibarium]

The sudden sense of ease and familiarity that came with the touch brought a knowing smile to Eve's face as she freed Oliver's hand and listened to his introduction. With a tiny glance signaling Clover to walk ahead of them, she led him to the back of the store where the furniture was plush and the lights were a bit dimmer.

"Have a seat wherever you like," she offered. "So, were you bitten? Or just woke up out of sorts one day?"

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Excruciatingly confused was now an immense understatement. He followed Eve to the back of the store looking for answers, but then blurted his thoughts out before he could organize them.

"Wait, wait, time out," He held his hands up, made a "T" with them, "What are you implying?" Bitten? Woke up out of sorts? "I like—" He looked around the rest of the store, noted the emptiness, noted that they were secluded and that it'd be alright...

...he took a seat. "I woke up like this." He shook his head, "Like, I haven't told anyone. Do you know what this is? What's happening? What's like—" He was talking faster than he could breath and he took a second to remedy the fact, "My hands are so <********>." He put emphasis on every word, "Like I can feel everything with them, and I'm restless all the time and I'm pretty sure I'm dying."

He seemed relieved to finally be getting this off of his chest.

cibarium

 

[cibarium]

Eve listened to Oliver's story patiently, nodding with understanding when he presented his hands and the unpleasant experiences he was having with them. By this point giving this sort of counsel was old hat to the werefox -- this showed quite obviously in her relaxed demeanor and composed expression. "You're not dying," she assured. "And you can get your hands back to normal. It's a bit of magic, like... have you read Animorphs?"

No one she'd asked had said yes yet. But she wasn't giving up hope.

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Oliver tilted his head, "Animorphs? When I was little..." He went to scratch the back of his head but stopped himself. Instead he settled his hands back into his lap, trying his best not to toy with the menu he still had. After some consideration he set it to the side. "Well, not little, but younger."

A moment of realization dawned on him.

"Wait," He started doing the shifty eye thing again, "You're not like... getting at...?" He searched her expression as he remembered all of the things he knew about Jamie, about being some weird animal furry "Moonwalker" whatever. He looked to Eve's pointed ears and yellow eyes again.

He shifted his weight around uneasily before kneading his forehead. The finger tape helped with the sensitivity. He didn't want to say what he was thinking even though he was pretty sure it would coincide with what Eve would tell him anyway.

cibarium

 

[cibarium]

"Yes, my dear. I'm afraid you're a furry," Eve answered, deadpan.

Damn right she knew what a furry was. She was on internet forums in 1999, for goodness sakes.

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

He groaned. Loudly. Exasperatedly.

"But how?" Eve mentioned the getting bit thing, "I'm like totally vaccinated I swear to god." He knew it was deeper than that—magic and all—but Jesus <******** sighed.

"I've heard about this before. I guess you prolly know who Jamie is? Delacroix?" His feet tapped against the ground, "I know him through my brother. He's got that weird rabbit thing going on..."

He sighed again, taking this a lot better than probably expected, what with keeping calm and not screaming and panicking.

"So what, there's nothing I can do about it? I just wait to see what the hell the moon lottery decides I'm gonna be?"

cibarium

 

[cibarium]

"Or you might get other clues, like with those hands... when that part happened to me, I had paws, you see. So that narrows it down some." Eve couldn't help the tiniest sliver of amusement showing in her voice: Oliver's frustration with his situation was both relatable and endearing. She'd seen similar in Lily and Jamie and others: they all had strong feelings one way or another about becoming a moonwalker.

Her own had been anticipation.

"For now, getting your human hands back is just a matter of focus," she continued. "Sit down and take some deep breaths, and remember how your old hands looked and felt. I can get something started for you while you give it a try, if you know what you'd like."

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"Paws." He clicked his teeth with something akin to disdain, "I can't play the piano with paws. I can't play the piano with these as it is." He got a little huffy, but he turned to Eve and what she had to say regardless. If he could make the sensation go away?

"I get the feelin' that what you're sayin' sounds a lot easier than it actually is." He stared down at his hands, but took a deep breath, tried to focus. He remembered the feeling of ivory keys on his finger tips—his dexterity, how each finger felt like an extension of himself—how smooth they were and well kept and how they were ginger, but not fragile, not open windows into his sensory receptors.

His fingers wiggled after a time. "I dunno if it did anything." He admitted, but went to picking the tape off of his fingers anyway.

cibarium

 

[cibarium]

Eve gave a small, amused shrug of concession at Oliver's point. Sometimes changing back the first time really wasn't simple. Hopefully the Animorphs comparison had helped in some way: the prose there was almost exact to Lady's instructions the first time Eve had woken up with canine feet.

"I've found it to be something of a matter of faith," she admitted as she watched him peel away at the tape on his fingers. "Your human features are still there, ready to be brought back out. Eventually the same can be said for the animal part of you... how are we doing? Still paws?"

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Underneath the tape were ordinary looking hands. He still didn't look convinced.

"Well they don't look like paws." He turned the hand over, inspected the back, inspected the front again, "But this is how it started out too—normal—except psyche." He was weary about doing anything with them, but—moment of truth—

He set them down on the menu in his lap, tapped his fingertips around, smoothed his thumb on the cover. And then, utterly entranced with this return to normalcy, he continued to pap his hand all over the surface. The look in his eyes could have either indicated bliss or maybe something breaking, but either way the relief was probably palpable.

"Lord have mercy." He murmured it in a way that implied he probably wasn't religious at all, but still in disbelief. He showed the hand to Eve like he had won some sort of prize, except then the light cut out of his eyes with a sudden realization. He had been so ******** focused on his stupid hands.

"Do you have any Earl Gray? Wait, that's a dumb question—" He huffed, but smiled, going back to his hands with a genuine wonder.

cibarium