socialcapital | [ JACKSON HEART ]

"At the very least I'll do my best."

He gives Satin a little shoulder pat.

"Try not to let the old ladies bully you out there."

[There is a tiny moment of relief where he considers how unlikely it is that he will face such challenges here.

And then he thinks of Ms. Harmonious Song.

And then he thinks of the unknown amount of danger there is in classifying Ms. Harmonious Song in such a way.]

I will... do my best.

Harmonious Song IS both old and a lady. She hasn't been the bullying type so far, but she does share a divine essence with this little gremlin, so who knows.

Jackson does a little giggle, a surprisingly unfamiliar sound because of the rasp his still-healing injury gives it.

"Good luck."

Thank you.

[He heads to the door, putting his shoes on and giving a polite bow in farewell before heading out.]

He waves goodbye.

You got a cookie!

[He has a cookie. And a path that leads back to the Garden.

The warmth of where he held Umbra's body against his still lingers. As does the vague intrusive thought of what it would feel like to cup the side of Umbra's throat, and feel the vibrations of that raspy chuckle against his palm.

... but he's a stranger here. Such thoughts have no place in these moments from years past.

So he retraces his steps, and returns to the one place that might still lead "forward" -- unwrapping the cookie and placing it in the last remaining hollow of the sealed gate.]

Prince, brother, servant, merchant, companion, musician, celebrity, pigeon friend, student...

... I'm still missing "a perfectly good accountant".

The cookie, placed in the last hollow, glows a little bit. There's the soft click of a lock opening.

[He looks at that faint glow, resting his fingers on the hollow's edge.]

I'm sorry. I thought about bringing a frond from your fern, but small as it was... even in this dream, I couldn't bring myself to harm something you loved.

I hope these things you were able to give me freely are enough.

Satin that is so cute.

Harmonious Song gives him a little wave.

"I'm sure he's missed you too. I didn't mention this, because your dedication was so touching, but you did have enough pieces to unlock it around two paths ago."

[What did she just...?]

[What?]

[Two... paths ago...?]

[WHAT?!!]

[But if that were true, shouldn't the click of the gate's lock occurred before?]

[He couldn't have missed it! The gate definitely hadn't unlocked before this!]

[Because... he hadn't heard anything...

Surely, if he'd tried it, it still would have been locked... wouldn't it?]

[But he hadn't tried it. Not since the first time.

He hadn't even tried to open it.]

[There were four slots, and four paths! How should he have known? How was he supposed to have known?! The instructions were clear!!

aaaaaaaaaagh

... blindly, he reaches for the gate, attempting to open it without making eye contact with either those filled hollows or Ms. Harmonious Song.]

That is... very insightful. Thank you. I would not otherwise have known.

She laughs.

"But you wouldn't have neglected some parts of him for convenience anyway, right?"

The gate IS unlocked now. It starts to swing open easily.

I appreciate that interpretation of my lack of insight, no matter how much I would struggle to agree with it.

If things here have not been negatively affected by the time it's taken me, that is enough.

"The opposite is true, in fact! But someone else can explain that if you'd like. Perhaps someone on the other side of that gate?"

She makes a gesture at him that's half-wave, half-shoo.

[Another polite half bow.]

If you would excuse me, then.

[His hand hesitates for a fraction of a second--

--and he reaches out, pushing the gate fully open and stepping forward.]

The gate swings open easily. On the other side is - the same garden, more or less, but the unchanging moment of total eclipse overhead is gone; instead it's something like, I dunno, 11am. 1:30pm. The sun's position is not especially significant. The sky has the occasional fluffy white cloud scooting along in the nice warm breeze.

This new garden isn't as perfect - the paths aren't immaculate, some flowers are less than aesthetically ideal - but it's still lovely.

He probably doesn't have a lot of time to take all of this in because someone familiar - the one, the only, the complete package, the Perfectly Good Accountant - immediately comes right over to flop on him.

[I have met so many of your ghosts, he doesn't say. There's something fragile in this moment, here between "hoping" and "knowing" -- wanting to recognize and be recognized, but not wanting to break this momentary illusion if he's wrong.

He wraps his arms around Umbra's(?) shoulders instead, holding him while he flops.]

How are you feeling?

"Like I was inside-out for a bit. Like, spiritually. Better now though."

He places his chin firmly on Satin's shoulder, wrapping his own arms around him to snuggle. This is the guy.

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