thunderproof | 𝒊𝒏𝒃𝒐𝒙.

The Gallows feels even more uncharacteristically oppressive now that everyone seems to be either afflicted by the strange illness or fearful of it, but that doesn't prevent Fern from doing what little she can to support the rifters in her lives that she's grown to care about. (It's a fairly small list: Adalia, of course, and Maedhros, and Cosima, and... and Chloe.)

"Adalia?" she asks, peeking into her room, and startling a little at the sight of the ice castle that Charis has evidently constructed for himself.

"Come in!" comes the distracted reply. Adalia's sat at a desk against the far left wall of the room, books and vellum spread out in front of her, a bag of herbs and other miscellaneous ingredients sat on the floor next to her and bottles scattered all around.

"Are you here for sleeping draughts or something else? I'm working on a batch now, but — oh!"

She starts upon seeing Fern, and Charis pokes his head out of his castle with an inquisitive noise, but the surprise quickly turns into laughter.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was you, Fern. Hi, how are you?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was you, Fern. Hi, how are you?"

At that she smiles and steps a bit further into the room, giving her skinny shoulders a little shrug. "Oh, well enough," she replies, then looks down to the basket she's carrying on the crook of one arm. "I thought I'd bring something by for you, just--to help you sleep, if you needed it."

A pause, as she takes note of all the bottles and vials, and blushes suddenly. Stupid, how silly, of course Adalia doesn't need her help with this--

"It's just, um, a valerian root tea my ma' used to make for me." This added a bit self-consciously, her eyes suddenly downcast.

She's not totally oblivious to the sudden attack of self-consciousness, but Adalia definitely acts as though she is, smiling widely at Fern and beckoning her closer.

"That sounds wonderful, thank you! Come in, do you have a moment to sit down? It feels like it's been a while since we last spoke."

It's... easier to pretend all of this is normal. That Adalia is not currently tinged blue, that this illness is not happening at all. Acting like this is a routine visit and neither of them needs to act any differently to how they usually would just... feels better. Simpler. Less like Adalia is going to tear her own hair out from nerves.

"Yes, I--I have some time," Fern says and tries to mirror that confidence, that enthusiasm, but what with everything going on, it's so difficult. Still, she comes forward, rooting around in the little basket on her arm to fetch out the sachet of tea that she prepared, and sets it on a nearby table for Adalia to have, whenever she likes.

"I'd... ask how you've been doing, but..." she begins, but lets her words taper off. Her eyes settle on her friend's blue skin, then move to her eyes again, clearly worried.

It is something of an acquired skill, to be in the middle of some bullshit and be able to pretend everything's fine. It's a skill Adalia has honed through months spent with people she doesn't trust, and she falls back on it now with ease. Better to pretend to be okay than run the risk she falls apart and can't put herself back together.

"Let's not talk about me," she says smoothly, leaning over to grab a shawl off of her and wrap it around her shoulders. It doesn't entirely hide the blue, as it's begun creeping up her neck and over her cheeks, but it makes it less noticeable, particularly once she fists her hands in the fabric and folds her arms to hide them under her armpits.

"I'm sure you've been up to more interesting things than I have. How's the garden? It's been a bit since I've had the time to go out there, I hope nothing's died without me."

𝒊𝒏𝒃𝒐𝒙.

during the blue flu

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