familyproblem | Ryslig inbox

[Twenty minutes—plenty of time for Rindo to ruminate on feeding. How little he's thought about the nitty-gritty of it, hopeful as he was that the hunger wouldn't kick in quite so soon. How desperately he's trying to not picture Swallow killing people. How… pathetic he feels, being so bothered by this, when he doesn't even have to "do anything unsavory" himself, as Joshua put it.

When at last he sees movement on the laptop screen, it's as if half of his burden is lifted all at once. He composes his reply immediately.]

how do you know when its time to feed

[…No need to dance around the topic. He's had plenty of time to think about that, too.

Rindo stares at the typed-out message for a few seconds. He does not want to hear the answer. Sending this means having to face it.

But there's no choice. There's never been, here. He hits send.]

[...Oh, shit.

Inevitable. But still: oh, shit.]

Lately it's a distinct sensation but the first time it was feeling "hungry but different". I've always been able to head it off before it gets any sharper than that. I didn't get physical stomach pain but it was the same distracting nagging feeling as when you want to look around for something to eat.

[but let's be real.]

If you're feeling something that makes you ask that, I think the answer is probably that it is time.

[Holding his breath over what kind of arrangements Rindo's household has set up for him. Or....ergh. Feeding in a tiny little city backyard sounds like a nightmare, for as long as it takes and as clumsy as it can be. A tray of soil? (It would keep him out of the mud right now.) Or will he want to come out to the woods for it?]

[…Rindo reads this over a few times, halfheartedly trying to convince himself that maybe what he's feeling is different. He gives up a minute in with a bitter sort of laugh at his own expense.]

i dont know how to do it

[With the rain making the garden a muddy mess, he hasn't had the chance to practice planting his roots in the ground. As for household arrangements… Nothing had been planned, really. He hadn't asked, because he knew they'd be able to set something up at a moment's notice when the time came. Even if he had to wake them up for it. Nanami would know what to do. He knows none of them would mind helping. …But.

…Maybe he's just using the sleep thing as an excuse. Maybe the truth is that he trusts Gladion more than Nanami. And that he doesn't want to associate Swallow with this, because then it's all too easy to think about what she has to do.

…]

[Yeah.

...Yeah, that's how it goes, isn't it.]

I can help with that. Give me a moment to think through the specifics.

[Okay. Thoughts in order, from the top.

Gladion hadn't known what to do either. There's a limit to how much can be explained; past a certain point, it has to be felt out.

Rindo could wake his housemates. They wouldn't be of much help, frankly, when it comes to the whole roots thing. Except for...

...

Well, that would be his own choice.

One thing at a time. ]

Do you know where you want to do it? You need soil, and you'll be standing in place for a while. First to figure out the process, and then to actually feed.

[...]

If you don't have somewhere in mind, and you're willing to take a day trip, there's a spot I use that you're welcome to. It's drenched and probably muddy right now like the rest of the outdoors but it's fairly private.

[Presumptuous, maybe. But the longer he thinks about this whole situation, the more he dwells on the memory of his own first feeding, and the greater the little knot of concern in his chest grows.]

[…Where to do it. It's such a mundane concern. It doesn't match how big this feels.

Rindo tries to picture himself planted in the house's garden, alone in the rain. Imagines Nanami by his side, watching him. Or someone waking up, finding him there.

…He can't do this.

Maybe the question of "where" is more important than he thought.]

i can take a day trip
where is it

[Rindo is upset. (Well, duh.) Read into it, but not too much.]

By my house. You'd use the bus instructions.

The second question is what you'll be feeding on. Is there anything already set aside for you, and is it something you can carry away in whatever bag you have?

[…Reliance on support is beginning to feel like a burden rather than a boon. Rindo's had it eas—… easier. But now it's like he's having to grab a knife by the blade.

Set aside for him specifically he doesn't know, but he does know they have a store. …And given what they all are, this month, it must be well supplied. Won't have to do anything unsavory indeed—just riding the coattails of those who do.]

ill bring something
how much

[In the space between messages he considers having to take the bus. He's done it plenty of times back home; that's hardly an issue. But right now he's hungry and…

He thinks back to his roots, the way they flared out when he got upset at Joshua. What if—]

is it safe to take the bus

[How much, indeed. For a moment, Gladion scrambles for the answer to that himself.

-Oh. Wait. There's a simpler answer.]

Just what you can carry. I can add to it, and if there's a difference we'll sort it out between our households afterwards once the fliers are awake.

Safe for you: probably. I take that route all the time, most people are used to riding along with a green face.

Safe for others: probably. If you only just started feeling hungry, you still have time. Bring a book or something to focus on.

[God. What else. His mind is running a million miles an hour.]

Also bring a change of dry clothes. It can't hurt.

[Helps to feel a little more human afterwards is not said.]

[Fliers… The twins? Sounds like Gladion may be in a similar arrangement. Not for the first time, Rindo thinks about how lucky he is to know Gladion.

His words are reassuring, but it's not enough. It's not nearly enough. It's gonna have to do, though.]

ok
ill start getting stuff ready
ill check my messages before i go so let me know if you think of anything else

[He doesn't wait for a response this time. Having instructions to follow is an actual godsend—helps keep his mind off the hunger. The Lighthouse bag'll do for the clothes. He tosses the laptop in with the rest and heads downstairs. …Gets a separate bag for the meat, and fills it as much as he can. "Who was this?" "Whose kill?" The questions float in the back of his mind. He feels sick.

…If it takes a while, he should probably write a note for the household. After a couple minutes of hesitation, he settles on "Went to Gladion's place. I have my laptop." No mention of why, if only because the thought of coming back here to concerned faces after everything is making him burn with shame. They might guess, but… If it's only a guess, maybe they won't ask.

With everything ready, including an umbrella propped against the wall near the front door and some random magazine he found lying around in the living room stuffed in his bag, he flips open the laptop again to check if Gladion sent anything extra. If not, he'll just go.]

[There is one last message.]

I'll meet you at the bus stop. I may be accompanied be a large creature with white feathers. It's a friend from my world, not a monster, and I'll fill it in on the situation beforehand.

[...and...he can think of all kinds of other things to say. But are any of them any more than a stalling urge?

Not really.]

See you in a while.

[…Huh. Well, whatever this "friend" is supposed to be, Rindo'll find out soon enough.]

got it
heading out now

[And so he does—umbrella in one hand, Lighthouse bag handle in the other, bag of meat hanging from his tail vine. It's a lot of stuff, but it's nothing his monster strength can't handle. How "convenient".

The walk to the bus stop is uneventful, as is the bus ride, despite Rindo's wild discomfort at the proximity of humans. None of them attempt to mess with him, but he is keenly aware of their presence around him, their looks, and of what the bag contains. The magazine barely helps. This is a nightmare—unfortunately not one he'll wake up from.

After what felt like ages, at last Rindo's stop is in sight. He gets off, wincing at his roots once again having to make contact with the wet ground. Like he doesn't feel gross enough already. He casts an uneasy glance around, looking for Gladion and the creature.]

[They're a little bit late, embarrassingly. More than embarrassingly. Rindo might see them, though - sort of - something horse-sized and kind of pale racing down the hill, off where the road curves and traces up through the woods.

They actually arrive at the stop about a minute after Rindo disembarks. The thing that approaches is certainly a large creature with white feathers. And there certainly is someone green in a rain poncho riding on its back.]

Read the time wrong, [Gladion half-shouts over the rain and the distance as Silvally begins to slow. It's barely stopped moving before he swings his leg over and jumps down, stumbles a little, walks closer.] Sorry about that. Any problems on the way?

[Under the poncho, Gladion is much more sparsely dressed than the first and last time they met. No thick jacket to cover his leaves and add weight to his silhouette. With less space between them, he looks up at Rindo: ears pressed out in faint unease, brow furrowed solemnly, trying not to draw attention to the way his gaze flicks down-and-up twice or thrice to take in the changes.

(Silvally blinks at the two of them. And blinks more, because of the rain, and shakes its head fruitlessly, and snorts a bit of water out of its nose.)]

[Rindo spends that minute wondering if he misread Gladion's instructions. In fact, he's about to pull the maps out of his bag just to double check when the sound of a slowing gallop and a familiar voice cut through the patter of the rain. He looks up, blinking a few times.

…There is a creature, as advertised. It looks… it looks like a lot of things. It certainly has feathers! But also a huge silver crest, and a metallic snout, and two different sets of legs, and a fish tail. Weird mix. Something about it reminds him of Junior—not in appearance, per se, they're quite different, but rather… the way they seem like animals but also not. Distinctly alien, yet familiar. (Like what Ryslig monsters are to humans…?)

A little over a month later, and with his own changes to recontextualize Gladion's appearance, Rindo can't help but stare at the other boy as he disembarks from his mount and approaches. The first time they met, Rindo was barely familiar with monsters at all. But now, having read the guide front to back a few times, he can easily pick out what they have in common and what they do not. Judging himself against Gladion as if this was a test and Gladion was the answer sheet.

…Gladion's staring, too. He's trying to be discreet about it, but it's still kind of obvious. Uncomfortable… but understandable. Can't blame him, especially since he's doing the same thing…

…And so is the creature. Evidently, there is much Looking to be done in this encounter. Surprisingly, the staring being mutual goes a long way to make it easier to stand—still, Rindo sheepishly averts his eyes, scratching his head in embarrassment, as he replies.]

I-It's okay, I just got here. And no, things went well.

[Somehow.

Gladion will soon find that Rindo is far less talkative in person. Meeting face-to-face is hard enough as it is, even without throwing now-being-a-monster, online oversharing and The Circumstances into the mix—so being personable is an impossible ask. (He's trying, though!)]

Good.

[By the same token, there's a nervous energy around Gladion that text hides for him. He holds his chin up, back straight, stands and walks and looks Rindo in the eye in all the ways that ought to speak to confidence, but all around the edges—the look in his eyes, the tension in his shoulders, the way he looks like he's waiting for a reason to move so that he can act like he knows where he's going—there's a shadow, painting the seams in that confidence, pointing to where and how it's sewn together.

Still blinking against the rain, Silvally steps up closer behind him. Gladion reaches back and demonstratively pats its shoulder, under the strap of a messenger bag that's slung around its neck.] This is Silvally. We can try to ride back, if you want to skip the uphill walk.

[And it is a bit of a walk, and he remembers that just a week or so ago Rindo was talking about having to figure out how to walk again. He'd have offered anyways, for speed's sake, but—it seems even more prudent under the circumstances.]

Edited 2023-04-24 17:54 (UTC)

[Does Rindo pick up on all that? Perhaps he does, and in better circumstances he might spare it some conscious thought, but right now it's all he can do to try and keep a veneer of calm (it is not successful; he's clearly on edge, eyes on anything but Gladion, shuffling on his roots). And maybe when you need to see someone as reliable, because the alternative means there is no safety net here and you're all alone against everything, it's easier to close your eyes to the ways they're struggling. Still—the part of him that notices is half-soothed knowing Gladion feels out of his depth, too. It's… a very different vibe from Rindo's housemates.

Rindo hesitates at Gladion's offer for just a split second. After all, it's only been a week since his feet transformed into roots. …Honestly, the less time he spends with his roots in the mud, the better. Even if they didn't absorb an uncomfortable amount of moisture, it's not like he's had any practice walking on difficult terrain. It would be all too easy to slip and fall. Which… let's not make this any harder than it already is.

…Yeah, he'll take a chance on the weird horse.]

…Sure.

[Well, Silvally is very clearly not a horse, but riding it can't feel that different. The problem is, Rindo's a city boy. He's never ridden on the back of any animal before. And so he has no idea how to go about this!

He makes eye contact with Silvally, then mutters a hesitant "Hey". (Gladion had very specifically called it a friend. It just seems appropriate?)

…Now he's wondering how he would even climb on its back.]

[Like this: Silvally returns that hey with a little chirp (and another snort of rainwater, pointed delicately away from Rindo) and then crouches down so that he can just step over it and sit down. ezpz.

Meanwhile, Gladion is silently juggling his options: jump up there with him and try to ride faster (his original plan), or just walk alongside. The longer he watches Rindo radiate unease, the more he favors the second. Sure, they'd get to the house faster, but...

at what cost.]

[(Radiating unease is Rindo's default state though.)

…Well, that works. Now Rindo's wondering what to do about the bags. …And the umbrella. He makes a mental note to get himself a rain poncho ASAP because this is silly.

He eventually decides to just place the bags on the ground for now, and to coil his tail vine around the umbrella. (It is surprisingly easy to keep it stable above his head like this. Hm.)

His hands freed, he mounts Silvally, grabbing onto its slick back—but since he's being extremely careful to not nick the creature with his claws, it… doesn't actually do much! And Rindo's two free vines seem well-aware of this problem, as they're starting to try to poke out from under his shirt collar.]

Edited 2023-04-25 18:55 (UTC)

[Gladion scoops the free bag up and puts it over his own shoulder.]

It's easier like this.

[He steps up by Silvally's shoulder and casts his own vines out through the arm holes of his poncho, wrapping them around its head half with his own hands as if they were ropes and half under their own power. Tied around the base of the crest, then looped down around the neck further down—it leaves a little slack, but you can stabilize yourself pretty well without having to grab on too tightly.]

You can hold on pretty firmly here too, as long as you don't dig all the way down through the feathers. [Indicating the base of the neck, right above its shoulders. Silvally chirps agreement.]

[…The sleeves would be easier for this, indeed. Rindo redirects the vines through there after realizing they were starting to do their own thing. He then does his best to copy Gladion—it takes him a little longer, but he manages it.

The vines are loose around Silvally's neck, because Rindo has not actually had much practice with grip strength and he doesn't want to strangle the poor thing; he tightens their hold progressively, then gives them a little tug. That seems… good enough? Still somewhat slack, but he feels Anchored.

He still doesn't look super confident, but this task appears to have distracted him from The Horrors decently well. He glances back at Gladion, seeking approval.]

Is this good?

...Yeah. Go ahead and—

[Silvally stands back up, on cue. Gladion's not too worried. He backs away, looks up, and nods.]

If you start to lose balance, just lean forward. [Into its neck.] Let's move?

[Fweet. And they'll set off like that, at a walking pace, and see how Rindo fares. Silvally's gait isn't quite like a horse's—not that he could tell anyways?]

[Indeed, Rindo cannot tell; he's mostly just focused on Not Falling. He acknowledges Gladion's tip with a nod. After a few seconds of moving, he relaxes a little—staying on is easier than he anticipated.

…Is Gladion just going to walk? That doesn't seem fair.]

You're not getting on?

[Maybe Silvally can only carry one person?]

[Gladion looks back with an eyebrow raised slightly. Doesn't leave it hanging on Rindo for more than a second before looking Silvally in the eye. It says pih.

Alright then.]

Scoot forward?

[And he'll stop to let Silvally walk up beside him. Gladion jumps and swings a leg over, getting seated behind Rindo; one vine latches on around Silvally's middle, the others swing up past Rindo and grab in approximately the same places, vines criss-crossing over each other.

Pih, the beast says again, which sounds kind of like a mirthful snort, and keeps walking. Gladion braces himself with one hand on Silvally's hindquarters, and at this pace, doesn't have to grab at Rindo. Which is probably good for his umbrella situation.]

It might be a little faster like this.

[A concession.]

[Rindo twists his body a bit, watching Gladion get on. …Moves his tail vine to his side, to give Gladion more room.]

Yeah, probably.

[…Riding a weird horse with Gladion ranks at the top of the list of things Rindo did not expect to be doing today.]

So… Are we stopping by your place first?

That's the plan. It's on the way anyways, and we can at least get out of the rain for a few minutes even if we don't go inside. [Kind of circling the main point here. This is the first time he's ever ridden Silvally with someone else in front...kind of weird. Huh.

Gladion is sort of watching off over Rindo's shoulder, in the direction they're headed. He makes eye contact once or twice, though. Brief glances, not fully comfortable.]

I went out and did some setup already. There's nothing left to do but just...go out there. I figured afterwards we'd go back to the house, clean up if the mud was a problem, dry off. [And, like...decompress. Handle freakouts. You know. You will know, anyways.]

…Sounds good.

[…"Afterwards." This whole time he's felt like he was marching straight toward a sheer cliff, with no way to change course. The reminder that the world will not in fact end after this is likely unintended by Gladion, perhaps obvious, but helpful all the same. Still, there's the same knot in his stomach that would come up before doctor's visits or exams, except a million times worse and without his parents to reassure him.

…He sucks air in through his teeth as a little tremor goes through his tail vine, shaking raindrops off the umbrella's canopy. Can't be thinking about this. Not now.

(It's always the most random little things that remind him.)

Rindo turns his head forward and away from Gladion perhaps a little abruptly, watching Silvally's head bob up and down as it walks at a steady pace. He rubs the back of his fingers against the creature's back in an absentminded sort of petting motion. Trying to calm down.]

<rindragon> cw: feeding-related stuff from here on

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