[She's immediately frustrated that it appears to have torn wires apart in the black cable. Will it still work? Can she reach it? If it's too high up, she fully plans to climb the tree to get to it.]
[It's a bit out of reach, and the branches have wrapped around it as if greedily swallowing it up.]
[So you climb! The tree feels rough and tree-like beneath your hands. It also feels like a tightening of your chest and throat, like a grief so strong your heart might break. It feels like terror and horror and desperation and confusion and pain. It feels like loss, and guilt. And bark. ]
[Oh. Fresh tears immediately begin spilling down her face, eventually enough to cling to her chin before dripping down that too.]
Cobalt.. it's okay. I'll protect you this time.
[She clings to the tree for a moment, as if hugging it, and tries to collect herself. She has to gasp for air, because the weight of all of these emotions hitting her at once is overwhelming. Eventually, she reaches for the cable and the branches holding it captive. It pains her, but she tries to bend one back without breaking it if she can. If she can slip it loose she will. Otherwise, she'll reach for another branch to untangle from the cable. She's careful, treating the tree with the same care that she treats Cobalt himself.]
[She'll have to break a few branches to get the cable out, and every time she does, that snap of breaking wood feels a bit like relief. Like a thorn getting pulled from a wound.]
[Leaves flutter to the floor, and it starts to feel a bit better.]
[Thank goodness. It feels like a weight has been lifted and she's so glad. She climbs down from the tree with the black cable and then moves to connect it to the yellow one.]
[You plug it in, and the room seems to brighten, like a weight being lifted. The harsh fluorescent ceiling lights start to look like sunlight, instead, gently filtering through the silvery leaves and dappling the floor.]
[The room seems... calmer now, somehow. Cobalt's expression looks less frightened and more like he's simply resting. Things overall feel a little more hopeful.]
[Oh, thank goodness. She looks back at Cobalt, frowning. Moving to crouch beside him again, she rests a hand on his cheek, relieved that he seems more at peace.]
I'm going to go for now, okay? I need to help Wednesday and the others. I'll keep them safe.
[Her thumb traces his skin, where the tears had been marring it. She moves away from him, hands pressed tightly to her chest as she moves back to the exit.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Re: Arboribus
[She's immediately frustrated that it appears to have torn wires apart in the black cable. Will it still work? Can she reach it? If it's too high up, she fully plans to climb the tree to get to it.]
Re: Arboribus
[So you climb! The tree feels rough and tree-like beneath your hands. It also feels like a tightening of your chest and throat, like a grief so strong your heart might break. It feels like terror and horror and desperation and confusion and pain. It feels like loss, and guilt. And bark. ]
no subject
Cobalt.. it's okay. I'll protect you this time.
[She clings to the tree for a moment, as if hugging it, and tries to collect herself. She has to gasp for air, because the weight of all of these emotions hitting her at once is overwhelming. Eventually, she reaches for the cable and the branches holding it captive. It pains her, but she tries to bend one back without breaking it if she can. If she can slip it loose she will. Otherwise, she'll reach for another branch to untangle from the cable. She's careful, treating the tree with the same care that she treats Cobalt himself.]
no subject
[Leaves flutter to the floor, and it starts to feel a bit better.]
[You successfully free the black cord.]
no subject
no subject
[The room seems... calmer now, somehow. Cobalt's expression looks less frightened and more like he's simply resting. Things overall feel a little more hopeful.]
[The light has been restored.]
no subject
I'm going to go for now, okay? I need to help Wednesday and the others. I'll keep them safe.
[Her thumb traces his skin, where the tears had been marring it. She moves away from him, hands pressed tightly to her chest as she moves back to the exit.]
no subject
[exit]