[The few seconds she spends picking mushrooms and berries out of the grass allows her brain to catch up with everything that's happened in the past couple of minutes. She can handle this. She can. She's experienced stranger things in stranger places. This is practically nothing. Just all the unasked questions, unresolved thoughts and feelings, and a quiet, empty hole in her chest from the past four years all hitting her at once. Basically a piece of cake. She tells herself this over and over for those few additional seconds of silence, a mantra to get her through the shock and misplaced hurt and every other emotion she can't yet put a name to.
You're older.
Nill's hand freezes just centimeters away from a morel, and she looks up at him, a little bit of guilt in her eyes. Of course he'd noticed, he'd have to be blind not to (though she knows that wouldn't be a real detriment for some people). A part of her hates not being the same as he left her, and that's a can of worms she isn't even close to ready to touch. She quickly goes through her mental catalogue of all the things that have changed about her over these long years, and yes, ageing does come out near the top of the list. But there are still a lot of other things: the space travel, the powers, the knives, the sign language, the trying-a-cigarette-once-when-she-thought-she-was-going-to-die (he's going to kill Badou). Still, yeah, she's older. Enough for it to matter to a lot of people, for a lot of reasons.
Before she can nod again, he assaults the rubbery monster behind him (honestly, poor Greg; it isn't his fault this is all happening when he was just trying to get hitched). By the time Heine looks back at her, she's stood, abandoning the rest of her foraged goods on the ground, and wipes her hands on her shorts, telling herself it's to get residual dirt off them, but really doing it because her palms feel sweaty and clammy. God, nobody told her it would be this hard to see him again. To see anyone from her world, really. The only familiar face she's seen over the years for any amount of time had been Badou's, and they were separated two years ago. That was basically another life.
She holds up four fingers, surprised by how steady her hand is.
Will he know? Will he remember how she told him the years when they first met? She thinks so. She doesn't even try to sign, knowing that he won't understand any of the gestures. But that's okay. For now, this will have to be enough. Considering their current circumstances, it's all she can offer.]
no subject
You're older.
Nill's hand freezes just centimeters away from a morel, and she looks up at him, a little bit of guilt in her eyes. Of course he'd noticed, he'd have to be blind not to (though she knows that wouldn't be a real detriment for some people). A part of her hates not being the same as he left her, and that's a can of worms she isn't even close to ready to touch. She quickly goes through her mental catalogue of all the things that have changed about her over these long years, and yes, ageing does come out near the top of the list. But there are still a lot of other things: the space travel, the powers, the knives, the sign language, the trying-a-cigarette-once-when-she-thought-she-was-going-to-die (he's going to kill Badou). Still, yeah, she's older. Enough for it to matter to a lot of people, for a lot of reasons.
Before she can nod again, he assaults the rubbery monster behind him (honestly, poor Greg; it isn't his fault this is all happening when he was just trying to get hitched). By the time Heine looks back at her, she's stood, abandoning the rest of her foraged goods on the ground, and wipes her hands on her shorts, telling herself it's to get residual dirt off them, but really doing it because her palms feel sweaty and clammy. God, nobody told her it would be this hard to see him again. To see anyone from her world, really. The only familiar face she's seen over the years for any amount of time had been Badou's, and they were separated two years ago. That was basically another life.
She holds up four fingers, surprised by how steady her hand is.
Will he know? Will he remember how she told him the years when they first met? She thinks so. She doesn't even try to sign, knowing that he won't understand any of the gestures. But that's okay. For now, this will have to be enough. Considering their current circumstances, it's all she can offer.]