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[blessingone]

[At the south of the village, once a bit farther out of the way before the higher numbered community buildings and the battle dome appeared, is a single-floor house surrounded by way more gardens than any reasonable person could ever need. There, in House 34, an eclectic group from the Legacy reside and raise the child left behind by Senel and Stella.

This is their fourth wall post.]

[Specifically, this is a group post for Norma, Grune, Fenimore, and Walter. Comments inside for each will give more detail on what they're up to.]

Comments

[blessingone]

[Fenimore nods.] Yeah. We're in one of the houses --

[...Huh? She didn't say they were brought here, or that they were in a village. Neither was enough to give her pause -- it made sense that something would have brought them here rather than it just happening, and the standard place to have a house was in a village for Ferines -- but both of them in a row is a little strange.]

I...didn't say we were in a village, though. Were you outside before?

[prayingone]

No, I haven't... I'm sorry, I guess I just assumed. ["Village" just seemed like the right word to describe the situation.]

1/2

[blessingone]

[Fenimore shakes her head. As someone who jumps to conclusions at the slightest provocation, she can understand assuming.] No, you're right. And you're right that we were brought here. The Malnosso --

[blessingone]

[...You know what? No, she's not going to start off with that part. Shirley is worried enough as it is.]

They mostly just leave us alone, though. We can talk about that later. More importantly...are you feeling all right?

[She holds the smile, but her eyes are worried. She seems to recall hearing that they need wings to survive and that's why losing them is such a problem. But Shirley doesn't have them....]

[prayingone]

The Malnosso... [Shirley says it thoughtfully, as if she's considering every syllable.] They're--... mm.

Everything is... so strange. [She shakes her head, as if trying to clear her thoughts.] I'm- not dreaming, am I.

[What she's experiencing is too clear and vivid to be a dream, even a lucid one.]

[blessingone]

No, it's not a dream...though I guess it doesn't make much more sense than a dream.

I could pinch you if that would help convince you.

[She very well may have done so if Shirley had tried to insist it was a dream, but she's not quite mean enough to do it when Shirley is feeling so confused.]

[prayingone]

No, you don't have to pinch me...! [Fenimore pinches hard, okay. ... but when did Fenimore pinch her?]

1/2

[blessingone]

Well, if you're sure. [She flashes a grin before her expression gentles a little.]

Don't worry. It will be strange for a while, but you'll get used to it. You did last --

[blessingone]

[...So she had intended to be a little less abrupt about telling Shirley she'd been here before, but...well, that wasn't going to happen now.]

...You did last time. You...probably don't remember, but you were here once before for a while.

[Except with wings last time LALALA NOT THINKING ABOUT THAT PART.]

[prayingone]

I've... been here before. [It's not a question, but a statement. Fenimore wouldn't lie to her. Fenimore has always been honest with her, no matter what.] Did I-- ... ... did I live together with you, in this house?

[blessingone]

Yeah. [There's a fondness in her voice and her smile.] When I first arrived here, you'd...already been around for a while. And then we lived here for a little over a year together.

It... [She hesitates and her eyes shift away from Shirley's face.] It was good that you were here, then. [And then her gaze is back on Shirley.] I guess it made it worth getting used to all the weirdness of this place, to get to spend a bit more time with you.

[prayingone]

So, that's why... [... everything is so familiar, but not.] I'm sorry I can't really remember, Fenimore...

1/3

[blessingone]

Shirley....

[blessingone]

[And then her hand is used for something a little less in the realm of comforting.]

What have I told you about saying you're sorry so much for things that aren't your fault? Geez. [Even though that's not really what "I'm sorry" means in these kinds of circumstances....]

[blessingone]

-- Though, I...guess you wouldn't remember that, either.

1/2

[prayingone]

Ow! Fenimore, that hurt!

[prayingone]

[Perhaps it's due to the blunt shock of being playfully smacked on the head, but the conversation that Fenimore's talking about--it feels so close. It's painfully easy to imagine sitting with Fenimore in the kitchen, eating a slice of warm peach pie in the summer, talking and laughing late into the afternoon.]

Well... [Shirley rubs the top of her head, her expression a little sulky. Not being able to remember the things Fenimore is talking about a little frustrating.] You probably said something like, "Modesty is a virtue, but you could use a lot less of it." Or that no one was ever going to take me seriously.

1/2

[blessingone]

[Fenimore is unrepentant. There's even a hint of a grin at the corner of her mouth as she sees the sulky expression, not recognizing the part that comes from frustration at the lack of memories. At least she does put a little effort into holding it back, even if it isn't entirely successful.

It fades shortly, though, as Shirley continues and Fenimore's expression relaxes into one of surprise. That sounds...incredibly familiar. She could almost swear that those were the exact words she had used once. A vivid memory of the smell of peach pie reaches her as she thinks of that conversation -- or perhaps that's just the baking tarts in the kitchen. Still, she was sure....]

[blessingone]

[But that can't be right. While Fenimore can remember much about that conversation, she doesn't remember her own exact words with enough confidence to believe that Shirley was regaining her memories, as much as she wants it to be true.

She leans back somewhat and crosses her arms as the surprise turns to a smile.]

You really know me well, huh? It was something like that. [She chuckles.] Though I'm sure that, even knowing that, you still wouldn't take a compliment on your pies.

[prayingone]

Well, my peach pie is nothing special... it's just a recipe out of a cookbook. [Shirley idly fiddles with one of her braids as she tries to recall more details about that day.]

1/2

[blessingone]

And now you're doing it aga --

[blessingone]

[...She hadn't said anything about it being a peach pie.]

You -- [She's afraid to ask the question, so, instead, she tries to fish for more details to test if Shirley is remembering.] You got a lot of practice at that recipe, what with how many you made.

[prayingone]

I suppose that's true... [She looks a little sheepish.] I just can't help myself. And- besides. Peaches spoil so quickly in the summer. I just think it's sad to see nice peaches go bad...

[blessingone]

Shirley.... [She speaks slowly, choosing her words carefully.] That's something that happened here. I think you're starting to remember.

[prayingone]

It... really did? [Shirley's voice has a note of hesitation in it.] ... ... even when I try and think about it, it's... all in bits and pieces.