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Mei held the incognito hand of a very ... overwhelmed Fox... all the way home. Up the elevator, into the apartment, and then Fox sat on the couch and sort of stared off into the near distance for a while, occasionally laughing at nothing. Or maybe at text messages she was getting with her brain. Both of those things are equally likely, given Fox.
Eventually, though, she fell asleep and at least got a nap, then got up and went to take a hot shower and scrub herself clean. Usually she wanders around slightly grubby by default, so a pink-skinned and extremely clean Fox, wearing one of Vasha's ridiculous targeted t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants, is a somewhat unusual sight. But here she is, back on the couch, picking at leftover Chinese from the food that Mei ordered when everyone got home. Egg rolls go cronch, so that, at least, is enticing her to eat.
Leta isn't always the best at being a comforting, emotional rock when her family is in need of it. Often, her first instinct is to diagnose and fix the problem, rather than actually be there. It's something she's working on.
... after having put out feelers towards a solution, she slipped into some comfortable lounging clothes, put on a pot of tea, and prepared to join Fox in the living room.
"Would you like a cup of tea, Fox?" Leta's still-damp hair has been gathered into a messy bun, and she's wearing a baggy black shirt that reads "goth girl thotumn" paired with a pair of barely visible athletic shorts. "I just made a fresh pot..."
Oontz-Oontz went home with Fox, and while he clearly means well? His version of support and reassurance is quoting song lyrics and movie lines at Fox that he knows she likes. He even does a little rendition of John Mulaney for a bit there, in a bid to keep her mind off the bad news and selfishly back on things that give him essence. It's his version of compassion, which is rather sweet in its own way.
Vasha returns home a couple hours after the others, having shadowed the poster-hangers to learn as much as he's able to about what they're actually up to and who is organizing them. Only then does he trundle on back to their secret lair which is just a giant penthouse in center city. Because oligarchs.
He just sort of appears in everyone's perceptions in a now familiar manner, clipping a cigar with a cocktail close to hand.
It's actually adorable, because Fox loves John Mulaney, and understands the sort of echolalia which is Oontz Oontz's particular way of communicating. She even rewards him with a little bit of essence converted from her own potentia, as Spirit Masters can do. But she doesn't leave the couch for hours, until she goes to shower, and for that, he isn't allowed to follow her. Fox says so. In so many words. Stay here and look for Vasha.
"I would like a cup of tea, thank you, Leta," agrees Fox, her arms wrapped around her knees. She's not quite as blank in her expression as she has been for a while, so apparently Leta being around and Oontz Oontz quoting songs at her, as well as text messaging in her brain with Lux and others, has sort of steadied her again.
Vasha's appearance summons a weak little smile. "Hi."
Leta comes slinking out of the the kitchen, and her bare feet patter across the floor as she deposits a mug of tea on the coffee table beside Fox. She's about to flop onto the couch beside them when Vasha appears. "Oh, Boris." Mischief glitters behind her eyes. "Vould you liek a cups of tea, too?"
No, that isn't an eastern European accent, but that's all part of the game, isn't it? Leta places a hand on Fox's shoulder, sipping her own tea as she hovers awkwardly. Waiting for Vasha's response.
"No thank you. I've got my cocktail and my cigar. Tea just puts me right to sleep." Once he's gotten his cigar properly lit up, he heads on over to where Fox is settled in and deposits himself directly beside her, puts an arm about her shoulders, and becomes very much Present. Which is something he doesn't often do. In fact, Vasha is probably one of the least Present people Fox might know, spending about as much time out of everyone's minds as he does hanging around in them. And, generally speaking, he doesn't care for it all that much.
How he suffers, being in everyone's perceptions.
And now both he and Leta are propping Fox up more or less. "So. What are we going to do about all of this, then, eh?"
Leta brings tea, and Fox looks up at her, offering another one of those weak little smiles, wrapping her hands around the tea mug and pulling it in to her chest. When Vasha suffers to be Present, she curls into that presence, drinking it up like a sunflower turning its face toward a window where the curtains have been abruptly opened. Her face nuzzles into the side of his neck for a minute, a primal and animal gesture, and she takes a slow, deep breath in, letting it out as a little sigh.
"That woman was my sister." That's not really an answer to Vasha's question. But it is a fact that neither one of them knew before, including the idea that Fox has siblings.
"I don't know. I think it brings us some danger, and I'm not -- " Fox is not used to being the one who brings this sort of danger to the cadre.
With the matter of Vasha's beverage settled, Leta sinks onto the couch on Fox's opposite side. She passes her mug off to the table, and wraps practically her entire body around Fox. Now they're not just propping them up, but making a Fox sandwich. The SFW kind, I should clarify.
"We're always in a kind of danger. Between one, or the other, or... literally all of us. I think that we can handle this between the five-and-a-half of us, considering what we've managed to get through together already."
"Leta has the right of it," mark your calendars. Vasha is just agreeing with Leta without teasing the shit out of her and bickering about it first. "Compared to some of the threats we've faced, this isn't that dramatic of a thing. At least not where are survival is concerned. And it's possible you could come out of this situation with a relationship with your old family, if you wanted one. They care enough to put up posters after all of this time, you know? Seems a shame to let them continue on with little more than a hope." Vasha glances between Leta and Fox to see how this suggestion lands.
The little Thyrsus, not so grubby as usual, nice and clean to snuggle, curls up between Vasha and Leta, apparently much soothed by being the SFW Fox Sandwich. She takes another sip of her tea, then leans to set the cup down so she doesn't spill it and can just soak up all of the attention. "It's just a lot of media attention that -- " that might let people know where others in the cadre are. The risk apparently terrifies her too much for her to finish the sentence, to speak past the lump in her throat. But she accepts the soothing. "I didn't really think -- "
A soft laugh curls out of her throat. "Simone is making art about me, and I didn't tell her I'm alive, I just. Thought I couldn't go back. The longer I was gone, the easier it was to say it would be cruel. And I think in some part of my brain I forgot that they -- remember my childhood differently than I do."
"Well. For what it's worth, Mei spent some time in the spotlight. I work in at a university, and regularly consult on high profile cases. I'm personally not worried about the spotlight -- and given Zoya's area of expertise, I'd be -- frankly -- fucking shocked if we couldn't control information in a way that's safe for all of us."
Leta rests her chin on Fox's shoulder, and nods softly. She's more than content to let Fox take the lead on figuring what to do, and simply provide a counterpoint when necessary.
"I am sympathetic to the fact that they have been living without knowing whether you are alive or dead. It's a common enough means for us to live our lives after we've joined the order. But that doesn't mean it's kind to those we leave behind. If you want to re-establish contact with your family, then we will find a way for you to do that safely. The other options open to us aren't... likely to please you. Removing their memory of you. Faking your death and letting them mourn you. Ultimately it will be up to you to decide which painful step forward you wish to make. We'll all divvy the pain of it around and get through it as we always do." So pragmatic, that Vasha. He scritches at the fox's scalp gently between puffs of his cigar, "Our only other option is to disappear again and move on once more. Which I don't think anyone else would be too keen on, having just settled here."
She gives Leta a thoughtful little look aside, frowning just a little bit. "Oh, well. Yeah. I guess maybe I'm just paranoid about Vasha," Fox admits, ruching around a little bit so that she can nestle further into the protective embrace of her cadremates, as if such a thing is possible. This is my skulk, and I need it. She leans to kiss each of their cheeks in turn, and silences to listen to Vasha talk.
Perhaps it's the cold practicality of it that settles her mind, rather than letting her spin and spin and spin in her worry. It's as if the two of them balance one another very well and that's one of the many reasons why the two of them have worked for so long. Imagine that. "I think I have to," she admits. "Either that or just never show my face where they could run into me, which would mean... not even being careful about synagogue, just never going. The community is small enough that even going to a different one wouldn't -- be good protection. I can't ... pretend. Anymore. I guess."
"No, I wouldn't -- I don't -- those aren't." Well, that's Fox's answer, anyway. Vasha is right: those options don't please her.
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