CLOSED - winner winner chicken dinner - backdated 07/26

[hext]

characters: the kingdom hearts cast and wanda maximoff
location: wanda's invincible lodgings, room 303
date/time: the evening of Friday 07/26
content: family bonding — she's adopted vanitas, time to collect them all
warnings: VANITAS???? 🖤

[ wanda had extended the invitation first to dawn, then to riku. she had hoped — little butterfly wings that flutter and send breezes pulsing through the night — that they would extend her hands on her behalf to their friends. sora, she'd seen. kairi, another one, whom she had not approached.

...vanitas. her fierce, jaded, jagged mirror. that shadow kindred, every inch of him raw despite boasts of armor and darkness, impenetrability. (what are the unversed, if not him bleeding out?)

she does not know if they will show, but she hopes. she cooks for them as if she is certain, using the best of what the general store (and a healthy pinch of what the tavern kitchen) can provide. her lodgings, too spacious now (lonely), after carol had disappeared, she fills with all the scents of her family's recipes — as close to them as she can approximate.

Đuveč comes first — always start with a stew, so it has plenty of time to simmer, and soak in all its flavors. onions, celery, crushed tomatoes, an assortment of peppers, thyme, garlic, chili flakes... and of course chicken and sausage. wanda prepares two pots of it, knowing teen appetites. if there are leftovers — more for her and more to give billy.

Šopska salad is easy and refreshing — nothing more than tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, pepper, and a healthy topping of white cheese.

but it is the Ćevapi that would likely be the most recognizable from Sokovia, and here, in this town, less flavorful than she would like. the variety of meats to make the sausage is less than ideal, but she's done her best. she put her heart into the grilling, using the stove grates, and the flatbread they're served on isn't quite right. the cream cheese isn't exactly kajmak. but it serves in a pinch, and it will fill stomachs. the grilled onions, at least, came out nicely.

wanda arranges everything in serving plates and bowls of mismatched sizes, leaving the stew in the pots and placing mats underneath them. pitchers of water and containers of juice are laid out just so. she's glad she nicked a few candles and a torch to borrow some light from the bonfire. they cast a welcome warmth over the little table of offerings.

the darkness has begun to weigh on her, the crooks and crannies of her, the edges around her eyes.
the stiffness of her fingers, when they used to be free, piano-playing, trilling through the air at her sides.

but she waits. perhaps light might arrive in the form of some company. ]

Comments

[equinoctials]

[ Riku had joked that he was coming along as a chaperone, bringing with him a gift presumably on behalf of or as a collaboration between he and his friends. Wildflowers with their stems tied together with cord and a bottle of juice from the general store. The truth hits closer to home; he's started to see this place (and sometimes, the people) grinding Sora and Kairi down. They seemed troubled, more withdrawn.

Sometimes even Riku wondered if he was just seeing what he expected, knowing what perpetual dark will do to someone. What they needed was camaraderie, friendly company. What he doesn't expect is...

Is Wanda going all out like she has, because he can smell the warm and homey aroma of a hot meal before they've even knocked on her door. But knock he does. ]

[dualikey]

[Riku brought flowers.

It's the kind of thing he would do, and by extension the kind of thing that reminds Sora that it's the kind of thing he should do. Sora smiles every time he looks at them- the wildflowers with their long, tied-together stems. He doesn't really know Wanda, they've only spoken once and it hadn't told him a whole lot. Though maybe all text conversations are kindof like that.

Still, it's the reason Sora stands at Riku's shoulder, a half-step behind when his friend knocks to announce their presence. The warm smells reach them easily out here and Sora finds himself able to let go of wondering how long it's been since he left the boathouse. To let himself be somewhere else instead. His voice is quiet, almost like a whisper.]

It smells like thyme.

[equinoctials]

[ It pains Riku, like a physical wound, to see Sora and Kairi so withdrawn, so diminished when he's so used to them being the brightest people in the room. But Sora's here, he came along, and Riku's just thankful to hear him whisper anything at all about this so long as it isn't a request to go back.

He thinks... he thinks they all need this, but Sora and Kairi need it more.

Riku's hand lifts, almost to the point of flattening his palm against the small of Sora's back, but he hesitates and lets it drop. Bumps his knuckles against Sora's arm instead. ]

I'm impressed. An opportunity for one of your corny jokes all lined up, and you didn't take it.

[ Something like good thing we've got all the thyme in the world!, but he tries not to think about how aware he is of its absence. Of what that might mean. ]

...You okay?

[dualikey]

Yeah. [Small noises reach them out here, muffled by the door so that they sound like they could be happening in another life. Some of them are easy to picture, because if he closes his eyes he can remember his mom opening and closing drawers- the clanking of bowls and plates. The hush of a faucet running water and the clink of a spoon inside a pot. They're home noises just as much as the rolling of waves or call of seabirds, but this is the first time Sora's caught himself thinking about it. Does it mean something, that these memories aren't the first ones that come to mind? That it's Kairi's laugh or Riku calling his name instead?

No one comes to the door right away and Sora doesn't press. They're being polite waiting here and he can appreciate that Riku feels as unfamiliar with all of this as he does. Wanda isn't enough of a known quantity for this to feel like the kind of place where they can just turn the knob and let themselves in.]

I'm okay. [Some questions are asked because there's an answer waiting for them- and this one's like that. I'm okay is the only answer, because Riku needs him to be okay. Because neither one of them would know what to do if he said he wasn't. And because even if they knew what to do, they couldn't do it here, now. The corners of his mouth go up around it and his head bobs in a little nod.

Sora's good at smiling. It's muscle memory, like lifting his keyblade.

And the smile is still there when his chin drops and Sora's eyes land on the flowers again. They hover expectantly in the space between them- maybe not the first thing Wanda will see, but probably the second or third.]

They're pretty. I think she'll really like 'em.

[equinoctials]

[ Sora's knuckles fit into the cup of his palm, and Riku curls his fingers around Sora's hand without grasping, he just directs Sora's fingers around the clutch of flowers in the other hand. He fixes a look on him, asks instead of demanding, instead of volunteering his best friend: ]

Wanna give them to her?

[ Because Riku's never been good at following through on these gestures, even if he's thought of them. He's still the one who of the three of them learned to put his fingers protectively around the vulnerable places of his heart, who holds back.

But it's an offer, not a demand. He isn't going to lean on Sora, when the whole universe does enough of that already. It's only an option. Riku still has a bottle of juice tucked under one arm, and Sora... Sora's allowed to say yes or no. Riku's whispered question leaves him an out. None to judge on his answer. ]

It's okay, Sora.

[dualikey]

[This isn't really what he meant at all- but trust Riku to have something good and to ask someone else to take the credit. He's always worked hard, and that's something Sora had to get older to understand. Riku was always responsible and dilligent, but he'd been too ready to just consider his friend naturally gifted and on the whole good at everything. It's only now that they've come out the other side so many times that Sora can see the truth for what it is. Riku tries. He tries really hard, and he's always been trying.

His fingers are curled around the narrow stems of these flowers, and it softens something in Sora's face. A small weight comes off of his shoulders. His head shakes.] No way, this was your idea.

[But he only backs out of it verbally. Instead of withdrawing or standing on his own two feet- Sora leans gently into his friend. The pressure isn't enough to suggest that he needs support or that he can't keep himself steady, but instead- like he's just looking for a reminder.]

[equinoctials]

[ And that's like Sora, too, always so generous. He gives and he gives. He knows when others are needing like it's as natural as breathing, as blinking, like how nobody has to think about the beat of their heart to keep it going.

Like he knows that Riku can't ask for but still needs these small reassurances, the way that Sora slightly leans into him the permission that lets Riku close the gap, covering the slope of Sora's shoulder in one broad, half-gloved palm, his head tipping against his wild, brown hair.

There it is. It's a ghost of what it was, but he catches a glimpse of that soft part of Sora that feels for people without guarding his heart, and Riku doesn't care at all for how things here have made him contract into himself, but he's here for his friends.

Even if Sora's heart loses the tune, when it forgets the lyrics, then there's someone who can sing them back.

After a fashion. ]

...Worried Kairi will get jealous? Could always give some to her later.

[dualikey]

What if she hugs you Riku?

[They lean into one another in their own ways and in doing so, find different words for the same feeling. For as unguarded and strong as the connection between them is, as tested as their friendship has been- this part doesn't come quite as easy. They fish for the right words to say and wait for the right moment to say them- when it won't be too much or not enough. Sora leans. Riku steadies. For just a moment they meet, the bump of one head against the other; Sora's eyes close and his smile is angled towards the ground, a vibration through the air.

However strange the circumstances they've always relied on this ability- to use each other as a weight and a counterweight. With Riku here he can tell himself that it's not so far from normal. He can say it's still like home.]

People hug to say thank you. I know that's what you're really after.

[equinoctials]

Now you're definitely holding these.

[ There's something lighter in Riku's voice when he says it, all but shoving the wildflowers into Sora's face. Something a little more like breathless laughter, embarrassed, too, by how quickly he walked right into it. This is how it's always been, jostling each other in more or less equal measure, the challenges more benign these days and no less an essential part of their friendship.

There's something else, when Riku moves.

The weight of his arm sinks across Sora's shoulders. Maybe he's saying 'thank you', too. ]

Alright. Let's look sharp.

[dualikey]

[Ah ha, there it is. Now the score is 2/2.

This is something he's not sure anyone else has ever really understood about Riku; everyone's always talked about how cool and calm he is, and even Sora had readily accepted that he was just good at everything. Definitely better than he was. But he's actually pretty easy to embarass too- it just takes some time to figure out how to get under his guard. Which is exactly where he ends up.

One of Riku's arms come up around his shoulders, and maybe that's what it is. Maybe it's the suggestion. Either way, Sora straightens beneath him, drawing himself up tall and holding the flowers front and center. The inhale that follows is quiet, but it takes up all the empty spaces inside of him- fills them just enough that he doesn't think of them the same way. As often. As completely.

Something about the way he faces forward looks unmistakably like he's preparing for a battle.

But when the door finally opens, Sora smiles- bouquet outstretched.]

[replicates]

[ it's begun to weigh on all of them — little by little, leaving bits and pieces behind for him to pick up and follow as he watches them, because that's what he does: he observes, he processes; he was made to be a tool, something made to break. so it should stand to reason that he would recognize the tell-tale signs of breakage, the small cracks in the surface despite the effort spent to cover them up and hold the pieces together. sora pulls back now — a dimmed sun, overcast where it was once clear skies and bright sunshine; his smiles are slower to form, longer pauses interspersed in his conversations. signs of hesitance.

dawn doesn't push, because he doesn't know how. he knows how to break himself and others, but to persuade and to fix is something he needs to relearn. all he can do is to wait and be patient, to keep extending his hand out like sora had done for him once, big blue eyes and a conviction that seemed bulletproof, immovable.

like wanda, who opens her room to them, who invites them in with candlelight and a home cooked meal filled with scents he doesn't recognize. and maybe that's why his chest already feels lighter the second it hits his nose: the food is new, the names are new, in some language he's never heard before and he's sure riku hasn't either. this is a new experience for all of them, one that they are all experiencing at the same time, in person. it's not some second-hand memory that he relives in dreams, or in conversations when he's reminded of something that doesn't belong to him. this is new — they're all on equal footing, and it's that thought that releases the tension in his shoulders, softens his expression into something less guarded and closed off as the first bright spoonful of flavor hits his tongue.

the appetites of four boys is nothing to underestimate, but wanda has more than compensated for it. by the time their pace has slowed, when the clinking of silverware against plates has lessened, dawn places his hand on wanda's arm when she reaches for his. ]

Let me help. That was the deal, remember?

[dualikey]

[It's strange to find his way here- to a place he doesn't know and to do this thing that feels so familiar. Sora hadn't been home in ages. Everything that happened after the first door was opened, after traveling to other worlds with the singular desire to find his friends again. For everyone to go back to the island and for everything to go back to normal- it feels like a lifetime ago. A time when they'd been worried about what games to play and who's house to sleep at, what the latest tally was in a never-ending competition.

When was the last time he went to someone else's place for dinner?
A quieter question- when was the last time he left the lakeside at all?

Sora lingers near the door, a contrast to the exuberant and curious boy he's always been- as he watches his friends go on ahead. He can hear Dawn talking to her further in, near the stove and over the warm mouths of pots and pans. He looks down at his feet and at the floorboards underneath- then slips out of his shoes and leaves them side by side, because that seems like the right thing to do. Muscle memory. When he returns it's to see Dawn's hand on Wanda's arm, a comfortable kind of familiarity, and he wonders how long they've known each other. If they've done this before.

The edges of his mouth soften, a precursor to a smile.]

[replicates]

[ sora's constant presence at the lakeside hasn't gone unnoticed by him, even if he hasn't said anything about it. sora has gained two shadows, now: one that sticks to him closely, and one that trails him at a distance, observing and processing. it's not his place to push where he shouldn't — who is he to do so? he's neither riku or kairi, no one of great importance compared to them; as far as he's concerned, he's nobody.

(i'm the greatest nobody of them all, riku had once said. it's funny how he feels the same, even if that memory isn't shared between them.)

but there's a baseline concern that hasn't left, and has only grown stronger since that night when sora woke up screaming. it builds on itself with each day as he watches the light in sora's eyes dim little by little, losing their shine. he doesn't know what to do, except to keep watching and waiting, to keep his hand extended in the brief hope that sora will one day take it.

sora lingers near the door and dawn swallows, taking the dish of stew that wanda hands to him without really looking. riku would tell sora to come over, to join them and sit down; ask if he's okay. but dawn thinks better of it. ]

Hey. [ his lips press together briefly, a moment's hesitation as he thinks of what to say. ] ... Help me set the table?

[ all he can do is keep reaching out. ]

[dualikey]

-Oh. Okay. [It's a little bit like when they'd first gotten here- finding this strange connection that he couldn't share with anyone else and reaching out. He's not sure he could really talk to Riku or Kairi about it- about Ventus and Roxas, Xion and Vanitas. What it's like to be full of someone else's memories and trying to figure out how much of it that he's allowed. But as soon as the thought surfaces he remembers too that Dawn had left their conversation behind on the beach. How easily he'd pulled his hand away and kept going.

Sora hasn't tried again.

He nods instead, because it's impossible not to know that he's been noticed, and because if nothing else- it helps to have a job to do. Wanda's kitchen is as unknown as the rest of her, but plates can only be in so many places. Sora passes him in the opposite direction, craning up onto his tiptoes to open one cupboard and then the other- until the clanking of dish on dish meets the air. He tucks them into the curve of his elbow as he counts them out, then sinks back onto both feet to makehis way to the table- laying each of them out one at a time.]

[evulsed]

[ It's strange.

Making himself a ghost of a presence in the boathouse was a very different animal from sitting down at a table to eat. Weeks ago, he would have avoided this situation entirely. But weeks ago, he hadn't run into the woods and been torn apart, limb from bloody limb. Weeks ago, he hadn't been pulled in by Sora's heart, a warmth he's begun cleaving to with increasing covetousness.

For the most part, he keeps his silence as the conversation ebbs and flows around them. Vanitas loiters in the corners of the room instead of attempting to help make the food, his eyes jumping between each of the other kids. He strays closer to Sora before drifting away, and then orbits Wanda, before doing the same. He might be convinced to do something like put the cutlery down, but chiefly, he broodily keeps his silence.

The only time any sort of tension seems to creep out of him is when he's eating.

And then, as things are being cleaned up, he drifts toward Wanda's pantry, hunting for something sweet. ]