RP:Leave the Pieces When You Go

From HollowWiki

Synopsis: Penelope spends day and night trying to wrap her mind around Linken being back in her life. The two discuss pieces of their past over dinner which leads to the confession of Linken killing Penelope's twin Pakellin Halifax. She admits despising the man and memories flood back to the elf. He then vanishes and leaves no hint to the herbalist on where he might go.

Yerrel's Hut

After Linken slept, the woman was pulling her weight to get rid of the crimson pools in Yerrel’s hut. She had told Yerrel everything when he had returned from travels from another town. The older man was understanding of the woman’s past, so the man assisted the best he could in his old age. First by stitching the woman properly with the gash in her shoulder. Ruari was directed to stay at Halifax Roots where Linken rely tucked in her studio above. The two men were left with specific instructions to keep an eye on the man who was taken over with something quite darker than they could possibly imagine. Meanwhile, Penelope was out to gather groceries, so the elf could eat properly and take time to think about what had happened the day prior to the two. What was she facing? The woman was gone hours and it was not until evening the next day that she had returned. She walks into the cabin into the shop portion to unload groceries within the pantry and fridge. Fruits, meats, breads, cheeses. You name it, she probably bought it out of nervous spite. The girl shops when she is stressed? Bad habit. If Linken was awake, he could probably here whispers on the floor below the one he was on. Ruari and Penelope talking about the truth of the situation. “El, he cannot stay here if that’s the case. He’s too dangerous.” The woman would bounce back. “Ruari, he has nowhere to go. He doesn’t know anything about this land. He doesn’t even know his own children, and I would not let him around them right now, anyway. The thing basically made it seem that I was the only one who had the power to do something,” the response make the man with the dark hair grumble. “That’s exactly what I am talking about, Penelope! And that is unhealthy for you,” he harshly whispers before continuing on, “I am just saying that he should stay somewhere else besides –your- house.” The man crosses his arms. “Just go, Ruari. Let me figure this out. It’s only been a day. We need a better plan than this,” she turns her back away from her co-worker and best friend to dismiss him. Out of frustration, Ruari leaves and Penelope is left behind the counter of the downstairs shop alone.


Linken had been wide awake for quite some time at this point; The events of the day prior had drained him both physically and psychologically, but after already having spent several days in deep recovery, it did not take more than a few hours to recuperate. Just enough, at least, for the voices to wake him up. Not the one's from the room below, either. He'd spend most of his night shifting about the room, constantly relocating himself from one spot to another; First the bed, next to the window, a chair in the corner, mixed in with a fair amount of pacing circles about the room's center, back to the window, and even huddled up in the room's corner, which is where he remained at present. The inaudible whispers, as well as the migraines they provoked, were persistent throughout the night, though their intensity would wane as the dawn drew closer, quelling to the point where he could overhear any discussions below. "...Dangerous..." He did not disagree. So overwhelmingly dangerous that it was inevitably the first thing he'd learned about himself in this new reality of his. Like throwing an egg at a brick wall, it seemed pretty hard to miss. A door would close at the peak of the argument, diverting Linken's thoughts from within to the present once more, and the elf figured it was high time to make an appearance. He'd have to at some point. What else was he going to do, isolate himself from society to live in seclusion? Somewhere hidden? Like where, nestled in the branches atop a massive tree, or some other similarly ridiculous location? "Here we go, then..." With a deep breath and an exasperated sigh, the elf gripped the cornered wall on either side and lifted himself to his feet, making his way to the door and slowly pushing it open with a loud creak. "Everything alright?..." he spoke quietly as he made his way down the steps 'til Penelope was clear in view. He knew it wasn't, he knew the issues that his presence caused, but he would not press her to speak on it, unless she was willing to talk.


Penelope heard the door creak open and she would automatically push off of the counter and wipe away her frustrated stare. Lack of sleep was in her eyes, but she still carried herself in a poised way. She wore a fresh outfit that was a little more professional. Dark green slacks that tied around her waste in a perfect bow, some snake-skin flats, and a black t-shirt that had some ruffles on the sleeves. More mature. It was as if her outfit was holding the woman in one professional piece. A smile would rest on her face to attempt to reassure the man before her that everything was, in fact, alright. “For now, yes.” The woman would lean back on the opposite counter in a lazy fashion. A hand rested behind her on the counter she leaned on and she tapped idly. “Hungry? I stocked the fridge. You can make anything you want,” she then began to move around in that nervous fidget of hers. She would open the fridge and the cupboards to show him for herself. The woman could not rest until she knew the man was okay. “I can use a bite too. How’re you feeling?”


Linken could not help but find a trace of humor in the display the woman was putting on his cheeks puffing as he forced a 'pffffft' out between tucked lips, followed by an amused chuckle. "How do I feel? Absolutely terrible." His smile said otherwise, but who's to argue? The elf was indeed hungry, one hand cupping his abdomen as it stirred at the mere mention of food, but not so hungry as to miss an opportunity to poke fun before diving into the kitchen. "What about that one?" He'd inquire about one of the cabinets behind Penelope, his hand lifting from his stomach to point from the hip in that general direction as he leaned his elbow on the counter for support, one heel crossed over the other in a kicked-back fashion. "That one, right there. You skipped it." She didn't skip it. And were she to turn and check, she’d be met with a sheepish grin upon coming about. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine. I will -be- fine. I'm not the one that was hurt. And as a matter of fact I am hungry, but you're not going to be doing any cooking with your shoulder and back the way it is, so -you- should probably sit down, take a breather, and tell me what you like." The elf seemed rather insistent, deeply rooted in his gratitude to her, and he'd stand there with fingers locked on his lap, still leaning back, and watching with a furrowed brow until Penelope would hopefully stop moving around so much and comply. She was, after all, the only one between the two of them that was actually hurt.


Penelope would find the humor in his smile he was showing. Was it bad to have humor in a twisted situation? Perhaps they were underlying twisted people putting up a show as the good ones. As he points towards the cupboard that is already open, she turns to check and then looks back to him. “Ha. Ha. Still the same, I see,” she gives him a snarky, playful look. Her eyes then soften before she walks to a stool that is behind the counter. The woman slides the stool with one had to not hurt her shoulder with the other. The woman does not fight him like she usually would. Instead, she listens, for once, throughout their whole existence. A changed woman. “I am right, you haven’t changed a single bit. I would fight with you, but I always lost those battles. Can’t believe I thought for a second that I would be the one cooking,” she is exaggerated before plopping tiredly in the stool and laces her fingers idly. Her chin rested on her fingertips, her elbows on top of the counter. Her eyes trace over the man before she leans back herself. The two always had a way of covering up the guilt. A hand extends and she is tapping idly on the counter again. “So… you want to know what I like?” The woman twists her unpainted lips for a moment to think. “Most people think I’m a monster because I eat anything. You should see me at the balls they put on in Lithrydel. I’ve even stole food off a man’s plate once,” she grins. “But if you –must- know, I’m a simple woman, and a sucker for a good pasta.” The freckled girl turns that grin into a charming crooked smile. “You think you can handle the big task?”


Linken smiled and smacked a flattened hand on the counter top. "Pasta it is!" Pasta. Simple enough. Even he knew what that was. Wait...did he, though? The elf pushed off of the counter and wandered over to the cabinet, reaching up to open them with both hands to reveal....Boxes? Packages? all of these things were unfamiliar to this elf, for as well as he could remember he kept everything with a shelf life in either a pot or a jar. However, as he'd let his hand guide him along the many labels, a finger would tip over a package into his and containing the very thing he was looking for. "...Really?.." he'd whisper to himself, drawing a deep breath and asking no questions as he closed his eyes and let his body traverse the motions of preparing a meal, and there were no hiccups throughout the entire process, save a single flare up of the stove at the turn of an incorrect dial followed duly by a terrified shriek and a shameful cough. In the oven, out the oven, and onto the counter it went, a beautiful deep-dish lasagna topped with fennel seeds, parsley, and extra cheese. "The elf stood in awe of is creation, lookig down at the palms of his open hands in disbelief that they were what created such a dish. Regardless, it looked and smelled irresistible; whatever the hell it was. "...Oh. Um..." The elf's eyes rose from his hands, darting awkwardly between the woman and his presented dish, eventually extending his hands and waving them in a pose of showmanship. "...Uuuuhhhta Daaaaa~?" Linken was obviously unsure of himself, or the standards this meal would be held to, but the quality of his cooking would speak for itself. "....Does that look right?"


Penelope watched with pure amusement as he wandered loss behind the counter. The woman leaned back and crossed her arms and would laugh from time to time when he tried to figure out how to use the kitchen. Occasionally she would say something to steer him in the right direction on how to make it. She would nod for reassurance keeping that smile wide. There was, however, a ping in her heart that he had forgotten how to make a simple pasta dish, although the muscle memory is still relevant. As he shows off the meal that he had created. The smells made her salivate. She inhales and leans forward to peer at the dish. It was nearly perfect. “That is lasagna,” she says simply and lets silence hang over them for anticipation. “And it is, in fact, pasta!” The woman claps. “You still have muscle memory it looks like. You were always a good cook.” The woman stands to wrap around the counter. She lifts upon her tip-toes to reach for some color-painted plates in a high cupboard. The woman then turns. “And now, we eat.” She hands him a plate. There is no hesitation when she grabs a scoop to scoop some lasagna out of the platter. “So, still not remembering anything…?”


Linken puffed a sigh of relief, and with a grateful smile he'd accept the plate and pull out a stool to seat himself. "Unfortunately, no..." he'd give in response, watching them manner in which she scooped portions onto her plate as not to embarrass himself when it came his turn. "Though, I'd shy away from calling it memories. More like...recognizance. I see something, and I somehow know what to do with it, but I'm not entirely sure what it actually is..." He'd wait until she finished before taking the ladle-like utensil in his grip and scooping a few chunks onto his plate. "...Wow, this smells good...Oh. I'm sorry." Linken shook his head, trying to keep himself on-topic as he eased back onto his stool and set the plate down. "When I try to actually -remember- things, it just... hurts. A lot, actually." The elf sat in waiting, patiently watching to see her reaction to eating it before trying it himself. "For example...You said this was called lasagna?" He shook his head. "...I honestly have no idea what I just made. None of this, any of this is familiar to me... But I just know, I guess?"


Penelope nods. The woman takes a bite of the pasta on her plate and she chews idly before smiling with a nod of reassurance. “Fan-freaking-tastic,” she gives the elf a pat on the shoulder before digging into her plate more. She listens to him intently at his response. “There’s an obvious physical block… and by last night it seemed to be like a… dark magic? Or some sort of dark presence.” The girl chews on her food some more before standing up and walking around the counter again. The woman reaches for two wine glasses and grabs a bottle of wine that she had bought earlier. She would pour each of them a glass before sliding the drink over to him. He can drink it or not, but the offer was there. She sits back down and takes a sip off of her glass. “Whatever darkness is in you, wants me to tell you everything, but… I don’t think you’re ready to know –everything-, and I don’t think I can just –tell you-.” The subject grows a little dimmer. “And… the reason you remember me is because it wants me to be the one to tell you. I don’t know why I’m significant to all this. I haven’t talked to you in years. And now I coincidentally found you from a boy on the forest path. It seems… odd, don’t you think?”


Linken smiled at her high praise of his dish's quality, picking up his utensils and sectioning a small piece off before taking a bite, and the flavor was exquisite. "Oh, my." The elf did his best to listen to Penelope's observations as he proceeded to shovel lasagna into his open face, stopping his inhalation of everything in front of him only to answer her questions when need be. "Me? Everything that's going on seems odd to me. In fact, odd would be an enormous understatement: Ridiculous? That's a good one." A few more bites and his knife and fork would hit the plate with a content sigh, hands pressed down on the table as he gradually leaned forward, curiosity having the better of him as he pushed ever so slightly for more answers. "...Well, if you're worried you're not able to tell me everything all at once, then what -can- you tell me about...well...me?"


Penelope frowns at his comment about calling himself “ridiculous”. He should have used an adjective like “terrifying”. As he pushes on the table, the woman slowly sets her silverware down on her plate. She inhales deeply while contemplating what she could actually say about the elf. “Umm…” Her voice trails. “I can go surface level…” Yeah, that would be a nice start. The surface. “Your life has always been intense. Emotionally and physically. There has been a lot of pain in your life. You may or may not caused pain in the process, though normally that pain is caused from good morale.” That was a start. The girl would then pick up the glass of wine and sip on it idly to let the statement sink in. A little at a time was all that was needed.


Linken knew more than anyone just how terrifying he was. He had a front row seat to everything that happened last night, and had already spent most of the night forced to dwell on his actions, even though they may have been out of his control. For now, he'd focus his attention on trying to remember, for dwelling on his potential for destruction wouldn't give them any answers. So he listened, and her answers, despite their deliberate vagueness, were both informative and disheartening. "...You don't have to try and sugar-coat it..." Linken's eyes stared hard into the counter's polished surface, his fixed gaze liable to burn a hole clean through it should it intensify any more. "...That....thing? Whatever it is, it made it pretty clear that I have done some terrible things... And, given what I let it-" He paused., biting his lip. "...No...what it made me do, it seems pretty obvious to me the state an individual would be left in if I did something to hurt them." The elf sighed, reaching out to pull his glass of wine closer before knocking it back in a few short gulps. "...Just say it..." His eyes would lift from the table to meet hers, briefly averting to the side to redirect a loose tear that was doomed to meet his sleeve. "...You can say I've killed people." It was clear this realization conflicted with everything Linken stood for morally, but it was a hurdle he'd have to get past if he was to find any answers, or any peace with himself.


Penelope let out a smirk as he confronted her sugar-coating. The woman would shrug along with him and watch him knock back the wine. The room was silent again, the freckled girl stared at him with a flat line and calm eyes. The silence was deafening. “Yes, but…” The woman leans and places a hand on one of his arms. “It’s about who you’ve killed. I told you there was a reason that you and I did not work...” Pause. There was a bad taste in her mouth at this moment and she pulled back. “You killed people because of me.” The room was almost spinning at the memories that flooded, but she remained put together. “I killed someone because of you.” Her tone was stern and a little deafening to the ears.


Linken 's stomach turned over as the woman spoke, and her touch did little to nothing to comfort him. But this was not about finding comfort in his actions, it was about learning who he was, and so he would not shy away as he remained adamant in the stare he met her gaze with. "...Please. Tell me what happened." He struggled with his request, hands now clenching the underside of the counter as he quietly forced back another wave of tears. "What did I make you do for me?" How could he have possibly led this woman to kill for him? Was it deliberate? What kind of monster would do that? He needed to know. He needed to know just what kind of monster he was.


All the girl knew is that she would never be the same after her days with the man. That was how the woman grew the poised shell and never spoke a word of her past. Everyone thought Penelope was so friendly, she was, but no one wondered how open she actually was which was how she liked it to be. The woman did not wear her heart on her sleeve like she fooled people into thinking. Green eyes stare into his blue ones. “I didn’t kill for you. You weren’t a monster…” she trailed a little. Her fingers wrapped around her shirt and scratched at her chest in nervous fidget. The woman stands to slowly walk around the table. “We were in love…. I told you before,” her eyes find her wine glass, and she reaches across the counter for the drink. “My brother didn’t like it. Like you. Like me being around you. He always wanted to control me—you knew that.” Her mouth slides over the rim and she finishes the glass. The woman was beginning to feel hazy enough. Brave enough. “It got out of control.” The woman rolls up her sleeve to reveal the jagged scar on her left forearm with heather forming around the scarred stem. “He hurt me. To hurt you. To make you leave, but hurting me didn’t make you… stop. Instead, it caused something darker.” A hand covers her eye at the gruesome thought of when Linken threw the dagger into Pakellin Halifax’s eye—causing him to bleed out. She does not go into that detail, but when her hand lowers, it trembles and she feels nauseated. “You killed him. –We- killed him. Our relationship killed him, and I thought it was… okay.” Her mossy eyes squint and her brows furrow in the thought. “I was so young and you took me in,” she was not looking at him. There was a long pause and her teeth bite at her bottom lip to hide the pain that was truly there. “After a while, his death consumed me. I despised you,” her eyes finally gaze at him. “I left you because I hated you.” Her teeth clenched and she looked down again ashamed to even admit that she hated the man before her. Silence sank over and she reaches for her chest again and massages it. “After a while, I knew Pakellin was horrible to me… therapy brought me to learn to forgive. I forgive you and it’s not your fault, but I will always remember what happened, and that is all I really see when I run into you. My brother’s death. Death. My younger days when I was naïve, and ruthless things happened.” At this point, she is uncomfortable and keeps her eyes away from him. She was prepared for a number of reactions at this point.


Linken listened with halted breaths, his chest heavy with the feeling of hands clenching his lungs as he anxiously awaited whatever revelation her words may bring, though as Penelope drew back the curtain on their shared past, all signs of anxiety and emotion would drain from the elf's expression. He'd back further and further from the table, eventually freezing with a stiff, upright posture as he stared doe-eyed into the void; It was a revelation indeed, and it took him from their conversation in this quaint kitchen into the recesses of his mind, where his memories would once more assault him with severe pain. This time, however, the pain would not be physical. Before he knew it, Linken found himself standing in an open yard surrounded by trees, and just as soon as he could blink a quaint cottage appeared before him, followed by two figures now impeding his path. One was Penelope, the woman who had made it her problem to take care of him through this ordeal, and the man retaining her surely had to be her brother. He'd watch as they struggled, the way he threatened her life....the way he cut her. The elf wanted to speak in retaliation, but no sound came out: Only the escalation of his panicked breaths as he saw his hand lift before him with a dagger pinched between his fingers, once more finding himself watching horrors unfold with no control of his actions. "No." he muttered under his breath, the words barely escaping the lips of his frozen form in reality as his hand drew back over his head, his face darting back and forth between the weapon and the innocent girl before him. "No. No, no, no, please don't- No, what are you doing??" The elf could feel his heart rise up into his throat, choking on a thick, bass-lined sob as he pleaded with whatever cruel thing was forcing him to relive this experience so vividly. "Please, I'll do whatever you want, just don't make me- wait, wait wait, NO!!" Linken 's arm whipped forward and the blade left his hand, flipping forward through the air at a decreasing speed until everything was moving at a half-crawl, leaving plenty of time to dwell on his actions as they unfurled before him. "Why did you do it?" A voice called to him, both everywhere and nowhere, seemingly resonating in the air around him as the dagger twirled closer and closer towards the unprepared attacker. "Could you not afford the chance to detain him non-violently? You took this poor girl's only family from her without so much as a second thought or a moment of hesitation. How do you know this was the only way?" He didn't. He couldn't possibly imagine what was going through his mind at the time. He could only witness the consequences of his actions. As the blade plunged into the man's eye, the elf wanted to vomit, instinctively trying to turn his head away, but to no avail; It is impossible to hide from what you see behind closed eyes. "Oh, god, no..." He cried, a single tear escaped from his cold, empty eyes, tumbling down his cheek in a free fall, and as soon as it struck the table his eyes sprung to life, the only person standing before him being the girl that had turned away. "I..." He didn't know what he could possibly say, a cautious hand lifting to reach out to her, his trembling increasing the closer he got until he could bear it no more. his shaking hand clenched into a fist, his face contorting into a hateful grimace as he struggled to choke back his emotions. "T-thank you for the food-" was all he could muster with his cracking voice, and before the woman could turn around the elf would rise from his seat, his plate rattling as he accidentally smacked it with his arm while turning about and running, blasting through the door as he bolted down the path before him. Linken had no idea what he was doing, or where he was going; All he knew was that he had to get away from Penelope. His presence- nay, his existence has brought this woman countless troubles and immeasurable pain, and he would not allow it anymore. Not her, not anybody. He had to do something.


Penelope could feel the room growing thicker with anxiety. His breaths were heavy and finally after the long, panicking silence, the woman returns her gaze towards him. He is full of horror. Shear horror. His eyes staring into the abyss that was somewhere far away from here. Was he… remembering? The herbalist read his trembling and she tries to near him until he cries out while pushing past her. “Linken! Calm—“ there was no calming down. He had made the food—what? The man charged and knocked the dish off the counter. The glass shatters and the girl is now cringing from the pain that she stirred up in his memory. The figure knew that this would all happen and was waiting to unleash terrible memory after memory. “No wait!” He was gone, and she was trying to catch her breath to even react to chasing after him. By the time she made it to the door of the shop, he is gone through the forest in the dim light. “Linken!” She calls out to see if he will return. Her voice hollers several times to see if he will return and nothing. Would she chase after him? Or would he come back to her? This was not the time to chase after the man, though she stews on the idea. Perhaps she had to try to do something, but for now, she knew she needed to give the man space to process what had happen years prior. A heavy sigh is released, and she moves away from the door to pick up the pieces of their past that remains shattered on the floor. “Gods, help me,” she looks up to the ceiling as if pleading before scraping up the glass and letting the night come to an end.