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[she's so rarely stricken speechless like this, and it shows: Cecelia remains mute as he shows off the feature, barely understanding what she's watching or hearing because the audacity of the gesture being this grand and actually real is having quite an effect.

moreover, because she's known Darin long enough to realize this isn't a trap. there's no catch to this -- that's not what he does. he just...does...this.

when her vision gets to blurry to focus, Cecelia blinks tears back, keeping part of her face obscured behind a hand slowly curling into a fist against her mouth.

she's been very busy being reclusive and bitter, yet the first thing offered in coming back out is...something like this?

she feels a little dizzy.]

[He's still not done.]

You know, you're probably wondering about storage. Well, I have you covered.

[He makes his way over to one of the sculpted tree trunks with a knothole in it. He sticks his hand in and Cecelia should hear an audible click...]

[The furthest part of the wall nearest the far wall leading outside suddenly slides open, revealing a walk in closet and her own personal bookshelf.]

But, I've saved the best for last.

[He ushers Cecelia over to the french doors, which he throws open to reveal the balcony he'd promised her so long ago. It's a small, half circle balcony with the railing carved to look like braided tree branches with carved flowers pock marking the railing. On the right, a box set into the railing for Cecelia to use for gardening if she's so inclined. To the left, a braided rope swing with a long pillow lining it for her to sit and relax in, and on the center, a little place for her to put a book, potentially a diary, evidenced by the little feathered pen holder built into slanted wood.]

...So, thoughts?

[after being guided through these facets like some sort of zombie, Cecelia is set before some kind of fairy tale balcony.

and when prompted for words, she has, again, another small, strangled sound as a reply that can barely make its way out of her.

this is far, far too much. he's still hobbling around with a cane, and this is what he can make? without any other reason beyond the fact he can, because she's certainly not warranted it, especially not of late.

if he so much as pokes her too hard she's liable to crumble to dust.

like she were breaking into a store filled end-to-end with ceramic, Cecelia moves of her own accord and lets her fingers eventually graze the rail just enough for feeling, but barely much more, lest it, too, crumble.

it's too much.]

V...Vana... [she gulps and sucks in a fast little breath.] It's beautiful.

[Darin takes a step back, filling the doorway leading out to the balcony. He sets his cane in front of him so he can lean on it with both hands overlaid across each other on the top.]

[As he speaks, his voice softens considerably but still retains its warmth and pride.]

...I'm really glad you think so. I'm...sorry it took so long. This month hasn't exactly been very kind to me...but it gave me plenty of time to do research, planning, and designing.

Listen...I know that, as long as you've been here, you've had a serious problem adjusting to...all of this. If I'd known you had so much trouble meditating, I would have done something sooner but...

I wanted to give you a place of your own. Your own sanctuary.

You're probably thinking that this is too much but...well, I wanted you to start feeling like this place is home, however temporary.

I wanted you to feel like you could feel at home. With your friends. With me, Allura, Fuu, and Hikaru...

And...I know we don't always see eye to eye but...

I hope this shows that you can always come to me with a problem. That I'll always be there to help you if you need it...

[she gulps back a sob, shoulders drawn up and braced against it. this is a losing fight, much like her fight to stay distant and wary and careful in all things.

gods, even the companions she came to call friends never promised her more than the moments they had at-hand; everyone was already raring to go their separate ways when all was said and done. some already had. there was going to be no happily ever after with everyone about! the fact she was swept up and away from that realization kept it at bay for a while, but she's already spent plenty of nights and pages ruminating on that fact.

nothing gold can stay, read a poem she'd chanced across. ain't that the truth?

yet here she stands in something that could be mistaken for a little piece of a palace...and it's said to be hers? at just the cost of staying. staying with people, who actually are inclined to stick around.

gods.

she hears Darin saying something like there to help before she turns sharply on her heel and lunges forward to hug him, squeaky, unintelligible sounds muffled because of it. it's fine -- she doesn't know what she's trying to say anyway, either.]

[Normally, Darin knows when a hug is coming. He's adept enough at reading a room to know when someone's emotions have boiled over to the point where a hug needs to be shared.]

[Darin was not expecting this hug. Not in the slightest.]

[He barely manages to lift his cane out of the way before Cecelia collides with him and a soft 'oof' escapes him before he has any other sort of response to what's happening.]

[For as long as he'd known her, Cecelia was so prickly. He couldn't necessarily blame her; from what she'd admitted to him about her upbringing and those around her, it was plain as day as to why she always had her defenses up. Maybe it was because those defenses seemed so alarmingly familiar to Darin that he couldn't help but want to break them down. But what he'd do after they were finally broken down was a mystery to him. To be honest, he never thought he'd make it this far on account of his penchant to do or say something particularly stupid that was sure to set her off.]

[But here she was hugging him and sniffling into his chest and...well, for the first time since he's been in this world, he felt like he'd really done something amazing. Something so inherently good that he just felt warm knowing he brought someone he cared for so much happiness.]

[He never wanted to let go of this feeling.]

[He lowers his arms and drapes then around Cece's back and just lets her get her emotions out of her system the healthy way.]

[Nothing more need to be said right now.]

Dariiiin, this-- [once she has enough composure to pry away, makeup all messy (sorry for your shirt) and still looking beside herself, she can at least start to weakly whine and scrub at her face.] This is too nice! I-I'm scared of even breaking something...! N-no one's ever...done anything this. Egg-ex-extravagant for me before...!

Hey, no worries! If you break something, I'll be there to fix it.

The point is that you enjoy it, Cece. This is your space for you to do whatever you want!

But, most importantly...this is a safe place for you to come and let yourself be...

Well...you.

Judgment free zone.

[in a weak scoff:] Gods, that's a lie. I can judge plenty enough by myself, thank you.

[she takes a swipe at her eyes with the back of her hand, turning around partway to look toward the bed. it's actually a dream. there is no way this is real!]

How the hell did you do all of this...by yourself? You're insane...

I was bedridden for like two weeks. You think I'm one to sit still?

That was more than enough time to research materials, call in custom orders, and sketch everything out. After I shook that cold, I had more energy than I knew what to do with!

And I can't say I did everything myself. I mean, I'm not exactly a high class lady. Allura helped me think of some of the finer details. Like the air fresheners in the ceiling? All her. Which reminds me, I'll show you how to change the cartridges later. You can pick any scent you want and it's really easy to do.

O-okay. [well, that explains colors matching a bit, she thinks.

...maybe.

she's seen some of the shirts Allura buys on a whim, so she's still finding this beauty and coordination suspicious.

either way, the prospect of Allura having a hand in this has Cece gulping on fresh guilt. she's...not always been the nicest to her, no matter how many olive branches were extended her way. that might just be out of defense, but that's not really a good excuse, especially in light of...this.

a bit hoarse:] I...really don't know how to...I mean. You're going to tell me I don't have to pay back anything, but that's stupid. But...

There is one thing you can do for me. It's not a lot but...

If you really want to do something in return?

Just enjoy this.

Be happy. Be content. Use the space to feel safe and comfortable.

That's all I...that's all we want. For you to have a place to smile.

[gods. she doesn't even have to tell him how saccharine that sounds! they've discussed that before, too, back when he was more snot than man.

she also doesn't have it in her to try and be snide in reply; this is far too humbling and big a thing to sour with that.

this just seems impossibly good that there just...has to be a catch!!]

...Thank you. Really.

[He laughs.]

You're welcome, Cecelia.

Hey, why don't you go check out the braided rope swing I hung up. Let me know if it's too high for you to get into easily. I can lower it if you need me to.

O-okay...

[she gives up a brief, timid bit of a smile before ducking her head and turning away to face it, hesitating to look it over more carefully now that her eyes aren't just full to the brim with tears.

after some hesitant poking around, she sits herself down, looking about herself and being a bit extra fidgety. it's weird having an audience! but she's not going to complain, because he did all of this, so...she just flashes another quick, sheepish smile in his direction before looking away.]

[Darin can't fight the smile forming on his face. She looked so pleased to have a place of her own...]

... ... ...

[It happens so suddenly then. A tug at his peripheries...like something pulling at the frayed edges of his consciousness. It feels like things are getting blurry, like reality itself is shifting, warping, the boundaries between universes becoming translucent for just the briefest of moments.]

[It strikes him then. He knows what this is. He knows what this has to be. Cold sweat breaks out on his skin, his heart rate spikes to the point where it's practically inside of his throat. Familiar sounds come rushing back to him. The night after the events of Uyreka, Dromas' proclamations, the look on Iris' face when his true identity was revealed.]

[He could see them now. The last thing he saw right before being brought to Heropa; the twin moons hovering ominously in the sky, casting the world in an eerie purple palor...]

[His world. Anmaral.]

[It was like he was experiencing the haze of a morning after a dream-heavy slumber, where your mind races to try and catch all of the escaping details before they're burned away by the morning sun. He tried his best to hold onto names...faces...]

[It was disappearing like smoke, slipping though the cracks in his consciousness.]

[Fear slowly fades as he rushes to burn whatever he can into his mind. Engrave it into his very soul. He wants to call out to Cecelia, but already his voice is in another reality. He wants to tell her not to worry. Not to be scared. To tell everyone on his behalf that he loves them and that he will find a way back. To tell the one most precious to him to wait for him.]

[But since he can't speak, he steels his gaze and firms his jaw.]

[Wait for me guys. I'll be back. I promise...]

[Cecelia's wind chime catches the breeze, the clinking and clanking somehow sounding more hollow than before...]

[Only to be accompanied by the sound of a cane falling to the carpet as soundless as the departure of its owner.]

Gods, you know? I just...realized I've not actually planted anything before. [she's squinting at the planter on the rail.] I mean, I've watered plants before, like, obviously. But all the planting and upkeep was always...someone...

[she trails off when she looks over and sees no sign of Darin. she sits silent for a beat, feeling foolish for talking to no one, but then gets up, deciding to let it go and see if, perhaps, he was just digging up more surprises. honestly, at this rate, she's not sure how much more she can take of--

oh.]

...

[quietly, she bends down and picks up the cane, casting more careful, scouring looks around the room. keeping it in-hand, she checks under the bed, in the closet, back outside on the balcony, looking over, because gods know if there was a way for him to magically backflip down there, he'd have done it seven times by now.

she lingers at the rail, drumming her fingernails nervously along the cane as she stares down at the lawn, ears full of wind and chimes and traffic and nothing else.]

Darin?

[she leans over the second floor rail and calls out downstairs, straining her ears to pick up more than normal: it makes the electrical hums and buzzes louder, and a nearby bug or spider's skittering more apparent, but other than that...just her heartbeat starting to drum faster.

her pace downstairs matches it as she hurries, accidentally smacking the banister with the cane as she swings around and starts a sweep in the usual spots first.]

Darin, if you think this is funny, it's not, so you better stop if you're...!

[...still here.

she wavers in place for a beat as she's taken by a wave of dread that chills her to the bone. before it can swallow her whole, though, she turns on her heel and rushes back upstairs and does what she hates the most: snoop through other people's rooms. she at least has the decency to put things back the way she found them, but the whole ordeal becomes more aggressive and frantic as she goes, to the point where she's smacking closets closed and thrusting the cane up under the bed in hopes of doing proper harm to get a response.

all of this escalates up to the last thing, which should've been the first thing to do: grab her communicator. murmuring breathy elvish swears as she taps and scrolls to her frequent contacts--

not there.

so she huffs and backs out and thumbs through the full list, down to the D's--

not there.

after an icy beat, she exhales, scrolling back up to the A's.

not there.

standing in Allura's old room, Cecelia is suddenly smacked by a tidal wave of different feelings all at once, so hard that she can't actually react to any of it right away. fear and outrage are what most roil in her guts and set her mind abuzz: where did he go? why was that so sudden? why didn't she notice? why didn't he say anything? what is she supposed to do? to say? when Allura gets home, how is she supposed to even look at her?

for a moment, the high-pitched hum of the room around her gets too loud before she blots it out, her vision blurring as she wavers in place.

after a moment of time she can't discern, Cecelia gasps and finds herself sitting up on the floor, cane tossed in one direction, the communicator in another. as she collects herself and finds her breath again, realization grips her and squeezes her chest like a vice.

that was it. that--this is the catch. she always knew there was a catch -- no way does something so lovely and nice happen without something equally terrible or worse happening in its stead. that's...that just makes sense. gods, obviously. a room that nice was effectively a farewell note without even trying to be!

see? see what happens?

Cecelia covers her mouth, gulping against a wave of nausea as she simmers in this, the earlier thoughts of panic starting to double back around. what is she supposed to do? Darin said just enjoy the space and be herself.

and then he vanished. like Legosi. like Riku. like--

gods. gods, are they kidding her? is this how it's going to be? get a nice thing, and then be left with it? as if shiny toys and trinkets were going to be what sates her? like Felix's ring. like Vief's staff. like all the books and jewelry her father had delivered to her. all this stuff and...goodbye.]

Is that...how it's going to be?

[her skin prickles with fresh, hot outrage as she climbs to her feet, grabbing the cane, and marching down the hall to the new room. her new room. a new prize! surprise! goodbye! as fury boils over and her temperature rising, she storms back into the room, whirling around it as she takes it all in again.

the dangling cord to the light above lightly grazes her ear and sets her off: she reels around, shooting a glare upward, and then swings the cane to hit the light fixture. she's not a wildly strong girl, so while she put a lot of frustration into that, it only chipped and broke a chunk of it the size of her hand and fell to the floor. that much is enough: she picks it up, throwing it at the dresser, yelling:]

IS THAT HOW IT'S GOING TO BE?! GO TO HELL! I'm not staying here! It's BROKEN! I'm not staying here if you're going to just up and LEAVE the second you, you PAWN IT OFF and GO! I don't care! It's broken! Come back and FIX IT, you blue idiot!

[yelling like that aloud scares her into a squeak and silence. after a while, lost in mixed-up thoughts, she rushes out, yanking the door closed behind her. after grabbing her journal, shawl, and communicator, she hurries downstairs, gets her shoes on, and leaves.]

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