video | un: Da Silva

[rosae]

( The feed opens to a woman who's clearly seen better days, hair a mess of disheveled layers and eyes circled in dark. Fellow Warmbloods might be able to relate to the way she moves — as though hardly daring to, even the most subtle shifts of her body resulting in little stabs of pain.

Despite the wince that flinches across her features as she settles back against a nest of pillows, the woman offers a quiet laugh. )

This is probably the worst time to show my face on here, huh. But I hope the rest of you who have this flu, or whatever it is, are taking care.

Anyway, since all I can really do is sit here... ( —a wry little smile; it's been weeks and she's still not too thrilled about being home-bound— ) ...it's been giving me a lot of time to think.

( She reaches very slowly for something that was just off-screen, drawing it gingerly into her lap. It's a brown teddy bear. )

This is something from my home that ended up here with me. It's my daughter's. When she was little, she had a very hard time with sleep. ( An understatement to be sure; the progressively dangerous sleepwalking spells are what she now knows were supernatural callings to her daughter's fractured soul. But Rose won't divulge that quite so openly. )

This guy brought her comfort, so in turn, he brought me comfort, too. ( She can't quite hold the stuffed animal to her chest the way she wants to, not with physical contact being as painful as it is, but one arm dares to loosely curl a bit closer around it, protective. )

Do you have anything here with you, from your home? If you don't mind sharing, what does it mean to you? This sick old lady would love to hear your stories.

Comments

video > action!

[grice]

[ aw, shucks! ]

I'll be right there. You don't have to get up, okay?

[ his goodbye is a brief one, a gentle wave with one hand as the other cups the bundle wrapped around his front. it takes only a few minutes, ten to fifteen tops, as he takes his time with his second passenger to get the warm little da silva cabin he's accustomed to.

as she gets to her replies, falco looks around for any more visitors as he lets himself in. the creak of the door is steady and closing it shut is down softly. finding rose was just a matter of poking his head through the doorframes of the rooms. ]

Miss Rose?

[ he comes bringing a smile in hopes of brightening her day even further. what's left of his month's corruption is a slight paleness to his skin, dry flakes at his joints and between his fingers, but the rest— it's all gone away. ]

[rosae]

( It's still exceptionally difficult for Rose Da Silva to do something as seemingly simple as sitting down and not getting up. It goes against something that feels like nature in her by this point — to always be moving, or ready to move. Perhaps it's been such an integral part of her functioning for these past months, and learning how to... slow down is admittedly hard for her.

But she tries to remind herself she can relax, a little. Sharon's here with her; it's okay to... stop fighting, for a while. (...A little while). And a visit from dear Falco is always welcomed; seeing the boy under circumstances that aren't quite as harrowing as the usual could be a nice change of pace...!

So she obediently stays where she is, not getting up.... even though a part of her nudges towards the idea of meeting him at the door... But there Rose is in her bedroom, glossy-eyed from illness and looking a little more frail in the oversized sweatshirt hanging from her thin shoulders. Her smile is warm and familiar as he pokes in, however, the woman straightening where she's sitting up in bed, propped against pillows. )

Hello, darling. ( She calls to him, one hand gingerly petting the top of the bed to invite him closer. ) I probably look awful, don't I... But it's so good to see you. Are you doing all right?

[grice]

Mhm!

[ his smile stretching into a grin doesn’t lie as he steps further into the room and immediately to her bed: he’s feeling better than those other days. oh, he’s holding so many things; like if he were moving! letting the slings of his bag fall of his arms with a helpful dip, falco sets his bigger bags by the door, only leaving him to curl his hand around the bundled front of him.

it looks like the sling of cloth he’s tried to make is coming loose, but he still nevertheless holds the bundle closer to keep it from falling, grabs his medical box, and finds a seat right where she’s exposed for him to sit. ]

It’d hurt if I hugged you, wouldn’t it . . .

[ he wants to, though, so instead— might as well start giving her something to alleviate it all. ]

[rosae]

( Falco's certainly come prepared! Rose watches the boy set things down, lips pressed together in an amused, fond smile as he moves closer. )

Just a little, but it's all right. ( She reaches out to give his arm a gentle squeeze, ignoring the jab of pain shooting through her fingers at simply that much. It's awful to not be able to embrace her little visitors the way she wants, but she can't help giving at least a dose of physical affection.... Rose, ever the stubborn. )

You brought so much to help. ( It's said with a note of praise, even pride — from one Mother Hen to the next, it's touching to see him in action. Before— )

Is that an.... egg? ( Now that he's in person, the round thing she'd gotten a brief glimpse of in his video has her attention, politely curious. )

[grice]

[ as if he couldn't feel anymore praised! medicine can be the "bad news". if it's the good stuff rose wants first, falco was no one to deny it. plus, it was getting harder and harder to hide this little guy. an egg it was, but an egg with eyes, closed and sleeping—? falco tries his best to cradle the thing like one would a baby: with care, but perhaps with not as much experience. with a gentle little bounce in his arms to stir it awake, the egg then unfolds and blinks up at the faces there to greet him. ]

He doesn't have a name yet, but, [ falco's fingers curl around some of the blanket to pull it away from the togepi's beak as he squeaked, and chirped, and lifted his stubby, feathery hand-things up at them both. at rose, in particular. ] I found him at my place.

[ falco adds a tone that very clearly decrees: he's cute. ]

[rosae]

( As the item that Falco's cradling so carefully reveals itself, Rose gives a gasp. For once, such a sound isn't the result of shock or horror, some awful new thing to have to make sense of. No, this is.... the way one would gasp when suddenly being face to face with a tiny fluffy kitten. )

He's alive— ( She's stunned for maybe three seconds before her mouth's curling into a tender smile, delighted and enamoured immediately. )

—Oh. Oh, hello there. ( Rose coos softly; she can't deny a reaching baby, even if it's one of a species she currently could not identify. Gently, she's lifting her hands towards the little guy, not at all concerned about the inevitable ache of physical contact, fingers so softly reaching out to him. )

Oh Falco, he's adorable. ( She's smitten! ) Does he eat...?

[grice]

[ the togepi seems to already like who is reaching for him. the little egg-thing shrills and shares his energy in a warm, pooling wave of emotion: joy. he stores it from others, he energizes from it, and as thanks, he shares it with those worthy enough to receive. falco’s lips split open a smile, and he holds the oval creature toward rose’s hands.

his shell seems wet to the immediate touch, but that’s because something is happening; rose looks worn and ill, and the togepi is intelligent enough to see it, to want to change it. rose will feel her pain lift and her energy restored just enough to feel the difference. it won’t peel away the aches for long nor for good, but his intention is helpful.

plus, he wants to be held. ]

I’ve been feeding him bread— little wet pieces in soup. Is that alright, for a baby?

[ soft, for a toothless mouth. bread had been the easiest thing to make— but he seeks knowledge from an expert. ]

[rosae]

( She almost can't handle how precious the little thing is. It doesn't matter if it's nothing that looks human at all — more bird-like than anything, really — he's a baby. She lifts her hand to her mouth for just a moment as he makes those noises, giving a quiet gasp to her own palm before she's returning to reach for and accept the little darling. She isn't afraid to take him; how could she ever be afraid of this....?

And indeed, something is happening, perhaps something magical. Rose's eyes widen; it's not the first time she's witnessed some sort of magic or power in this place, but it's the first time it's been quite so tender. She's left feeling better than she has all month, even if it's subtle — movements aren't so aching, body isn't so fatigued. One layer of wear and sickness ebbed away, even if only for a while.

She's taking him and holding him close, careful. His body certainly isn't like a human baby's, more rounded; she won't tilt him too far back. But the hold is still a cradle, gently pressed to her chest as she stares down at him. How long has it been since she's held a baby...? She still remembers Sharon so tiny, so small and perfect. )

I think that sounds perfect. ( Her eyes, previously fixed on the little one, look back up to Falco with a soft smile. ) And you could probably give him some mashed up bananas sometime, too. When Sharon was a baby, she loved trying out all kinds of different things.

[grice]

[ falco seems so attentive to the details, nodding, a calm enthusiasm in his gaze for spread seconds to remember it all, even the way rose seems to hold him. there’s no other place to learn than from a mother, and as falco begins to gather vials and salves— ]

I don’t think I’ll have a little brother, [ for a sad reason he doesn’t really want to get into at the moment. to spoil this? the melancholy in it is present and fleeting, but following it came warm, genuine expectations. ] but I would’ve liked to. Like my big brother.

[ he venerates colt to this day— it’s difficult to remember those who have gone and those he thinks are gone, but are still alive— despite it all, no, falco won’t have a little brother when he gets back home.

but he’ll have this little guy here, right? ]

Can you teach me more, Miss Rose?

[ about . . . baby. ]

[rosae]

( Rose gently strokes the side of the little creature with the pad of a finger, tending to one baby while listening to another. At the mention of a big brother she pauses, brows lifting softly. She still knows so little of Falco's life — she's seen snippets, from the very first encounter he'd had with him. A child who knew too much responsibility, independence. He'd successfully retrieved her stolen locket from a full-grown man. He's used to giving up his food, subsisting on small amounts.

Along the way, she'd formed the assumption that he'd been on his own, with no family to speak of. )

I'd love to. It looks like you've already got a nice swaddle set-up, but I can show you how to do it with a blanket, too. ( The sling Falco's been using is a nice secure way to keep a baby comfortable, but it could be handy to know how to properly swaddle him with a blanket for when he's sleeping outside of the sling. )

Babies love to be kept as tight and snug as possible, especially during bedtime.

( She leans to reach, one-armed, across the bed to grasp the small throw blanket at its corner, and (still one-armed), spreads it out. Doing things with one arm while cradling a baby in the other still seems like second nature, even if it's been nine years since she'd done it.

With that, Rose will gently lay the baby down in its center, demonstrating how to properly tuck and wrap him up. As she does, a question forms its way to the surface, voiced gently. )

What was your brother like...?

[grice]

[ with one arm, while holding a baby, while explaining and talking? mothers are amazing, falco realizes, and hope he has the chance to one day say so again to his mother. he's barely had the chance to live with her. the togepi complies quite easily, not that much of a fusser but occasionally kicking its little feet back and forth (which doesn't do much). at most, its stubby feathers reach for the movement above its head, letting out a playful shrill.

falco, on the other hand, enthralled in watching, ]

Colt—? Oh, he, [ if there's anyone that falco likes talking about, it's colt. it keeps his brother. falco holds his hands it a steading "wait" gesture, and slips off the bed in a way that wouldn't disturb them or the blanket in making. ] I'll go get him.

[ it's probably so worn out by how much falco brings it with him just about everywhere, including gabi's picture, but the time, when he's bent down to one of the side zippers of his backpack, he pulls out a paper with a shine of film still on one side, albeit a little dull. the edges are bent, the middle has a crease in it, to be able to fit it into pockets and such. returning to the bed, falco holds the photograph out to her. she doesn't have to take it if her hands are full, but the option is there— that, and falco makes she to hold it in a way she can see clearly: a handsome young man holding a handsome little man, who might one day share his splitting image. ]

He'll be twenty, in August.

[ he keeps track. of course, he keeps track, and he refrains from using he would've been. he still is, in his heart. ]