SHE BRIEFLY LOOKS AWAY, HALF-SMILES AND HALF-GRIMACES OUT OF A FAKE-IT-TO-MAKE-IT DESPERATION TO KEEP AWAY THE PAIN. “ Thanks for always being so patient and kind, Saima. “ The stargirl looks up at her friend, peeks out from under the veil that is her blonde hair. It’s a mark of her shame, her oddity that she loathes so deeply about her roots. “ Do you have any tips for me this school year? Like … how to fit in and not be such an anomaly amongst my peers? “
Stella pockets her hands and turns over a dried autumn leaf with her toe before kicking up the pine needles and cones towards the tree stump. “ Sometimes, when I’m an emotional wreck … I can’t control my powers. They just come out, and such events always scare people away from me. “
“It’s literally the least that I could do,” they respond simply – not daring to take too much credit. It all seemed to be part of being a good friend – especially in such a personal situation. Glancing back at Stella, Saima thinks for a moment about what advice they could possibly give in terms of dealing with school situations. The last time they sought out education, it was an adult. And even teenage situations were too far long ago to be remotely relevant to what Stella had been dealing with. Not to mention to complicating factor their appearance changing significantly since then.
“Oh, I wouldn’t really know what to say about that. I had been dealing with being an anomaly for way too long.“ They kick a few leaves while the try to come up with something. “Right, I can see how that would cause trouble. I think – you’ve definitely should practice centering yourself and calming down from heightened emotions. Getting in the practice of counting down usually serves as a way to get yourself a little more together. “
“…Well, yes. It doesn’t matter that I can see right through you. It doesn’t make you any less real.” Saima had been fairly honestly about the way that they can pick up on the things Stella often meant to hide from other people. It was a sense that they had had for much of their existence – even if it did make interacting with individuals a little troublesome from time to time.
But in this case, it only served to make them feel closer to Stella. Since they often had struggled with similar concerns. “Trust that even if I can see through you pretty well – I don’t think any less of you. I can relate to you all the more, and frankly – I appreciate having that kind of similarity. I haven’t had the chance to experience that in a while.”
” I’ll trust you then, Saima. “ A fragile whisper. She tries a little louder, a little firmer, this time. “ I trust you. “ And the child of the cosmos wraps her arms around herself, her small attempt of self-soothing when times are trying.
Her name is Stella. That’s who she really is. No more self-deception. She’s going to face her truth. She’s going to tell it to Saima too.
“ I get lonely sometimes. “ Her throat hurts. She chokes back a sob, digs her nails into her skin as though it’d help her somehow. But it never does. “ I wish I was human. I wish I was anyone, anything but myself. “
A nod acknowledging Stella’s choice to trust them. It was a lot to have that sort of trust even among those they shared such a commonality. And so Saima wanted to show that they were worthy of it. They remained silent for a moment, if only to listen truly and entirely to what Stella had to say.
She looked to be going through so much, it was enough to make Saima feel a little wounded just at the sight. Wishing she was human. Now wasn’t that a familiar refrain. An entirely too familiar comment as far as Saima knew.
“..That’s fair. I.. I’ve felt that way occasionally too. I do feel the loneliness of this existence quite a bit – that takes a toll on you. So I’m so sorry that you’ve had to encounter that nagging feeling.“
All thanks to Saima’s grace towards her, though. Respiration of ripe air between cherry’d lips, and she takes it all in slowly before letting it out through her nose. She’s thankful they don’t judge her under rigid laws like Pharisees’ standards. They get it. They get her.
❛ You sure you can handle my truth though ? You sure it’s not too messy for you ? ❜ Her tone’s gentle but as raw and real as an all-consuming fire: it’s intense because she’s intense.
❛ I’m cursed, Saima. Don’t you worry it’ll jinx you too ? ❜
It seems like more often than not all Saima has to offer is a little bit of grace now and then. If that seems to help others then so be it.Nonetheless, Stella’s words get under their skin a little bit. It’s almost a doubt that they don’t fully appreciate being directed their way. “I can handle your truth. I can handle the fact that you’re cursed – and frankly, I don’t really worry about that. Since honestly, there’s a part of my existence that has been doomed in its own sense anyway.”
Between posing as an embodiment and wrestling with the ‘cursed’ nature of that kind of existence, being hyper-aware of their eternal separation from those they patron, and just the memories and odd limitations they can feel – curses are nothing new to Saima, let that be known.
“I just would rather have a vote of confidence from you Stella. If nothing else.I know the truth gets incredibly messy – but that’s the nature of such things more often than not.“
She looks at them intently, thumbs fidgeting with worn corners of the textbook in her lap.
❛ Does it bother you, Saima ? ❜ And there it was: the heavy silence Stella had so dreaded prior to bringing up the topic. Oh, how should she navigate this billowing sea ?She’s stranded clueless and forced to experiment, and it makes her feel terribly awkward —- horribly vulnerable. Stella clears her throat and clarifies, ❛ That I’m always coming up with pathetic excuses as to why I always act like I’ve got something to hide ? ❜
They look back, the question that they hear is a heavy one. Saima already knows that this is a complicated situation. It doesn’t take long before Stella explains further what she wants to know if it bothers Saima. But how could they be bothered, it’d be weirdly hypocritical for them to be as much. At least that’s how they feel.
“I mean…not really. I can’t let it bother me too much. I’ve been doing similar things for so long, I can’t even blame you too much for acting like you’ve got something to hide. Especially when not everyone can handle the truth of our existence.“
Can a soul itch ?‘Cause she swears hers is just itching to teach those namby pamby girls a lesson. Not with words, of course, nor with fists. With wit. Something clever as Athena’s wisdom. Something cunning as Loki’s tricks.
❛ Well then, what do you suppose we do ? ❜ There’s that edge of impatience in her tone, a cutting touch of, ( We gotta do something about it today ! ) .
❛ Would if I could … have those girls actually feel what it’s like to be hurt. They’re so unsympathetic. Unable to empathize with the world around them ‘cause all they know is that they’re the center of the universe. ❜ Stella rolls her eyes, flicks her hair over her shoulder dramatically like, ( They are so not the center of the universe ) .
While Stella’s need to intervene is not one that Saima feels all that often and frankly, it gets under their skin a little bit. Like it really, really can’t always be our business. “Hm. I’d say time usually knocks them out of their position but I can’t guarantee even that would work for some people.” They think for a moment.
“I do suppose that the woman could always use some especially generous customers. Heck, I’d probably not be opposed to just making sure the woman get a real treat out of this whole affair. As for the girls…, I do have something up my sleeves that could be useful.“ While they didn’t particularly like doing so, Saima did have a way of subtly influencing the ways people thought – really getting an illusion in their heads through tales that come way too close to home. They weren’t opposed to sending a solid trick into the girls’ minds to throw them offguard.
❛ It totally unnerves me. ❜ More like it pisses her off, but she’s not quite the character to favor such diction. There’s anger in those sea blue eyes of hers, something clear as sunny skies. She pours her heart out to Saima, little pastor’s daughter at confessional with her plate of hurt and, ( Sometimes I care too much ) .
❛ See that woman over there by the street corner ? She sells flowers for a living, tries to make ends meet to send her son off to school ‘cause her husband died two years ago. But nearly every week, these snobby girls come over just to taunt her, call her ugly, even destroy some of her bouquets. ❜ She crosses her arms, digs those nails of hers into the sleeves of her shirt.
❛ I wanna change it, Saima. Make things better somehow, y’know ? ❜
Saima full well sees the anger in Stella’s eyes and feels the hints of it even in the difference of her diction.Listening to the tale only makes them feel something of that same anger. It was frustrating seeing the things that humans could really do to each other. “Personally just hearing that gets under my skin. You’d think those girls would get bored of targeting the same person over and over – and yet there seems to be no limit on petty cruelty.” But what can be done to make it better?
“While it’s impossible to ensure that it wouldn’t happen to the woman again without drastic measures, that’d likely draw too much attention…I suppose maybe there is something to at least make her ay better. And sometimes the little things have a major impact on those going through hard times.“
They are pleasantly taken aback by the gift, even more so by the hug. Which why eagerly return in a dear embrace. “Happy Holidays to you as well Stella. Hah, you were right about me having plenty of books on Greek tales, so this is an especially appreciated change. I’ll definitely take care – you are a wonderful presence in my life too. ”
Seekesotsibteadmist 