[Shadow Milk is too emotionally constipated to like, actually check in and ask Pavlova how he's doing like a normal ass person. He's come a looooong way from the deranged lunatic, half mad from his own Soul Jam, that he was back in Beast-Yeast, but there's ...still a very long way to go!]
[What Pavlova finds instead in his room one day, is a doll. It is a doll of Shadow Milk, because of course it is, only it looks a little more like his current appearance rather than the jester of home, or even the fount that Pavlova might remember.]
[No note or anything, but perhaps the action speaks enough.]
[ Oh he loves it. Had he noticed the handmade one he'd made when he was little or something? He guesses his dad's vanity wouldn't allow such an ugly thing to bear his likeness or something.
It's fine. The ratty old one can go on his shelf.
He carries the new one around the house as he plays with the pets. It goes to bed with him at night. Not a word is spoken about it. The only time it is absent... is when Pavlova bothers the real thing.
Like he is now. Hi dad, he is snuggling against you, whatever you're doing right now. ]
[Oh god affection. His hair, even short, does the ghibli puff thing when he comes up to snuggle him.]
[He is currently working in his atelier, the one White Lily put in the house just for him. He's got an assortment of craft projects on the table, half finished. The man is cycling through his adhd by having ten things going at once, but that's not a surprise.]
[he makes a noise of surprise.]
-Little Cherub, is that you?
[He knows it is, even if technically his staff is centered on his workbench.]
[ he thought Shadow Milk would have heard him. He forgets how quiet he can be... or maybe in this case Shadow Milk had just been consumed by his projects. Either or. At least he's careful to stay out of the way of his arms so his dad can keep working.
[Pavlova will find that he has some blue fabric in an embroidery wheel, and he's stitching gold fabric into the pattern of flowers. Despite being blind and relying on a vision source stationed above him, he still works with deft hands.]
Have I lost track of time? You seem a mite sleepy! What time is it?
[ It's not really that late, honestly. This is more a result of the poor boy still being scared to sleep here lest he find himself back in the garden.
They should probably put a clock in here. ]
Um... about 9:30.
[ Basing that on the light in the windows or lack thereof and the last time he looked at a clock. Imagine having a concept of time when your norm is a garden where it's always midday and everything is a nap ]
[ Humble. Hah. Good joke, dad. He manages a little smile and snuggles against him. ]
Why did you need the Berries of the Heart..?
[ His dad isn't dumb, he knows very well what those do. What they are. What purpose could he have for them? Startled the flour out of him when he showed up in disguise like that.
Not that he was fooled by it. Not with the distinctive heterochromia and how extremely blue all of his disguises are. Not a lot of cookies are that brilliant of a blue.
... either way it's been long enough now that he doesn't mind talking about the way things were left. ]
[That feels like a lifetime ago. He knows exactly what he was doing, remembers those sinister intentions, and like many of the things he remembers and thinks back to during that time, finds himself feeling wildly dissociative over it. Outside his body almost.]
[Shadow Milk goes quiet while he turns this over and tries to decide what he should say. Instinct tells him to lie, spin some pretty story that paints his actions as favorable, and keep Pavlova’s attention.]
[But then something in him almost cries out at the thought. Something hurts almost at the thought. It reminds him of a time long ago. The pain of deceit as it warred with truth, tearing Knowledge to pieces.]
That Truth is ugly and cruel. Are you sure you want it?
[ Its a sad smile he gives his father. He too is entrenched in lies, more so than he's even aware. ]
... I know how things were there, and I know it's different here. I won't be upset or scared.
[ He's expecting something along the lines of torture. He's had a front row seat to the cruelty for several hundred years. He knows a thing or two about cruel truths. ]
[He sure is, and Shadow Milk has been sitting on that for some time, trying to figure out what to do about it. If he even should. Is it his right to meddle? If he intervenes will it hurt him? Feeling conflicted is frustrating, and also caring as much as he does feels like he's suffering from some kind of infection.]
[Pure Vanilla has placed a curse on him, and it won't give him any peace.]
Very well! I did warn you!
[He hums, trying to put on a mask, someone aloof and unbothered, someone who does not know remorse for their actions. The Shadow Milk most would remember.]
My other half was giving me trouble! Fighting me tooth and nail, despite everything I did to try and break his spirit, to take his soul and pull it apart until he couldn't take anymore. He was resilient, so I thought I might spice things up a bit! That's all.
[ Maybe it's sad how Pavlova doesn't even bat an eye. He's completely aware of how complicated that relationship is. His eyes flicker to the golden thread and then back to his father and hums ]
Eternal Sugar Cookie did something similar to try and dissuade Hollyberry Cookie from leaving.
[ "It didn't work for either of you," is the implication there. And had him give the damn thing to her on top of that. Ugh. ]
... You know you don't have to put on that mask right?
[ That part is hesitant. Shadow Milk... probably? Remembers how his powers work. He should remember that he can see how that relationship changed him.
He knows Shadow Milk feels remorse. He knows it's complicated. ]
I see she didn't bother to take my advice! Whaaaaaat a surprise! And here I was being generous for once.
[Hardly. He was definitely just fucking with her.]
Ha?
[That actually catches him off guard! To have it called out so suddenly, so openly. It does take him a moment to remember Pavlova's abilities and to realize very suddenly that his heart is on display to him. That he can see all of that nasty mess going on in his chest. Oh.]
[That's way more vulnerable than he's comfortable with. He bristles almost, his hair moving to show that sudden discomfort before he manages to temper it. Oh to be seen. Awful.]
[ ... For the sake of not starting a fight he'll refrain from mentioning he never used to have to do that with him. The situation was different then and the Fount had far less to hide from him to begin with. ]
... You're a lot more than that. You always have been.
[ What is it he said? The best lies hold a drop of truth? Every mask holds a piece of his father. He's just so fragmented now he can't tell how they fit together.
... his wings, clipped as they are, move to hug him as well. ]
But it's okay. I know you won't believe me.
[ ... too hard to accept, even from someone who inherited a piece of Knowledge itself. ]
I just don't want you to think you have to play a part for me y'know?
[A good call, probably. The Fount is still a touchy subject for him, in very complicated ways. He would never want to take that out on Pavlova, but his emotions can wildly swing one way to the next.]
[But then, Pavlova says all that and, knowing he has the view he does into his heart, makes him lock up in surprise. He wants to protest, put on another act, perhaps even act rudely, coldly, and dismiss his words entirely. There's that part of him that riles up, the wild animal that bites when it feels cornered.]
[But he steps outside of it for a moment, and settles back down. Takes in that last part of his words and sighs a little.]
...You'll have to forgive your father, the mask is as much for me as it is for you.
[ No fuss, no pushing. Pavlova is a stubborn cookie, but he knows when to let up for his own sake as well as others'. Hollyberry needed the prodding, Shadow Milk would bite if prodded.
Instead he snuggles quietly into his father. Because no matter what role he felt like playing, the fact he was his dad remained. ]
... you startled me when you showed up at the Garden but... I did miss you. I was happy you were okay.
[And he looks relieved, for a moment, that Pavlova has let that go for now. Perhaps someday in the future, it will be easier for him to set aside his little acts, but right now they're a desperate coping mechanism for normalcy. Especially with the way grief is still churning through his system like a poison.]
[Vanilla what the fuck is he supposed to do now? He's not the kind parental figure you were, how does he not destroy this with his own two hands like he has done so much already?]
The Witches themselves couldn't defeat us properly, it will take a whooooole army of them to crumble me, you know!
[But after a moment he leans, putting a tentative arm around him, drawing him in closer.]
Despite the nature of this place, I'm glad to see you safe and sound.
[ He's not privy to Shadow Milk's turmoil. Not exactly. He can sense the grief radiating off that one frayed string, but that's been constant since he arrived.
He does crack a little smile when his father says that. As though he hadn't gotten his ass handed to him by that former god. He won't point that out. Shadow Milk knows he knows and he still... looks up to him. He still trusts his ability to protect him ]
I know. My dad's the best.
[ ... That isn't a lie. ]
It was still scary. I remember when it happened. Getting sealed. I didn't know what was happening but Master had me and Sugarfly go into her jewelry box and... that's where we were stuck.
[ he had no idea what happened to his father for so long. Of course he was worried.
His father pulls him close and Pavlova lets his eyes close, arms wrapping around his father and tucking his face against him. ]
[Truth can be painful in so very many ways, and he is so intimately aware of all of them. There is a unique terror he feels when Pavlova says this to him, with all his heart, his sincerity. It was similar to when Pure Vanilla had said it to him, too, though at the time he had been in a wretched state of mind, had lashed out violently.]
[That isn't what's going to happen here, though something rises up in him that feels horror. Guilt almost. Is that love for him? Truly? Or is it actually for the Fount? Does Pavlova not realize they're different? No, they aren't, says a small voice, deep within his soul. He wants to twist this around so badly, warp it until it's Deceit, but he can't. He's left feeling bewildered, instead.]
[Shadow Milk's response is to take long, shuddering breath.]
[Is it possible for him to be loved, even with Pure Vanilla gone? Is there really anyone else out there besides Pure Vanilla that could?]
[Shadow Milk doesn't speak a response, but he does pull Pavlova in closer, tightly, possessively, and tries to smother what definitely sounds like a heaving sob so Pavlova doesn't notice. While he fails at words, Pavlova might be given the impression, mentally, as if Shadow Milk had floated the thought into his head himself, that he might return the sentiment.]
[ Whether he notices the sob or not, the boy's wings wrap around his father as though the delicate little things could protect him from anything meaningful. He at least doesn't seem to mind the tight hold.
His love is for his father, whatever form he chooses to take. He doesn't love just one mask, he loves all of them.
Maybe that could be seen as foolish, but he doesn't really care. So far all of them have been sweet to him.
The implication of a returned sentiment is good enough for him right now. Pavlova may not be Pure Vanilla, but in a platonic sense his love wasn't going anywhere. ]
... I know things are difficult but I... I'm glad you're my dad. I wouldn't want anyone else.
[ He doesn't say more, though, with Shadow milk so overwhelmed, but he needs to know that much. So he can stop looking so nervous, like he's doing something wrong whenever they talk. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Persnaps a little time after his arrival. After settling in at the house
[What Pavlova finds instead in his room one day, is a doll. It is a doll of Shadow Milk, because of course it is, only it looks a little more like his current appearance rather than the jester of home, or even the fount that Pavlova might remember.]
[No note or anything, but perhaps the action speaks enough.]
no subject
It's fine. The ratty old one can go on his shelf.
He carries the new one around the house as he plays with the pets. It goes to bed with him at night. Not a word is spoken about it. The only time it is absent... is when Pavlova bothers the real thing.
Like he is now. Hi dad, he is snuggling against you, whatever you're doing right now. ]
no subject
[He is currently working in his atelier, the one White Lily put in the house just for him. He's got an assortment of craft projects on the table, half finished. The man is cycling through his adhd by having ten things going at once, but that's not a surprise.]
[he makes a noise of surprise.]
-Little Cherub, is that you?
[He knows it is, even if technically his staff is centered on his workbench.]
no subject
[ he thought Shadow Milk would have heard him. He forgets how quiet he can be... or maybe in this case Shadow Milk had just been consumed by his projects. Either or. At least he's careful to stay out of the way of his arms so his dad can keep working.
Poor thing seems sleepy though. ]
What're you working on?
no subject
[Pavlova will find that he has some blue fabric in an embroidery wheel, and he's stitching gold fabric into the pattern of flowers. Despite being blind and relying on a vision source stationed above him, he still works with deft hands.]
Have I lost track of time? You seem a mite sleepy! What time is it?
no subject
They should probably put a clock in here. ]
Um... about 9:30.
[ Basing that on the light in the windows or lack thereof and the last time he looked at a clock. Imagine having a concept of time when your norm is a garden where it's always midday and everything is a nap ]
Hey Dad..?
no subject
[His hands still, though, at that tone, though he keeps his expression unflapped. “Dad” is something he is still getting used to hearing again.]
Hm? What is it your humble jester of a father can do for you?
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Why did you need the Berries of the Heart..?
[ His dad isn't dumb, he knows very well what those do. What they are. What purpose could he have for them? Startled the flour out of him when he showed up in disguise like that.
Not that he was fooled by it. Not with the distinctive heterochromia and how extremely blue all of his disguises are. Not a lot of cookies are that brilliant of a blue.
... either way it's been long enough now that he doesn't mind talking about the way things were left. ]
no subject
[That feels like a lifetime ago. He knows exactly what he was doing, remembers those sinister intentions, and like many of the things he remembers and thinks back to during that time, finds himself feeling wildly dissociative over it. Outside his body almost.]
[Shadow Milk goes quiet while he turns this over and tries to decide what he should say. Instinct tells him to lie, spin some pretty story that paints his actions as favorable, and keep Pavlova’s attention.]
[But then something in him almost cries out at the thought. Something hurts almost at the thought. It reminds him of a time long ago. The pain of deceit as it warred with truth, tearing Knowledge to pieces.]
That Truth is ugly and cruel. Are you sure you want it?
no subject
... I know how things were there, and I know it's different here. I won't be upset or scared.
[ He's expecting something along the lines of torture. He's had a front row seat to the cruelty for several hundred years. He knows a thing or two about cruel truths. ]
no subject
[Pure Vanilla has placed a curse on him, and it won't give him any peace.]
Very well! I did warn you!
[He hums, trying to put on a mask, someone aloof and unbothered, someone who does not know remorse for their actions. The Shadow Milk most would remember.]
My other half was giving me trouble! Fighting me tooth and nail, despite everything I did to try and break his spirit, to take his soul and pull it apart until he couldn't take anymore. He was resilient, so I thought I might spice things up a bit! That's all.
no subject
Eternal Sugar Cookie did something similar to try and dissuade Hollyberry Cookie from leaving.
[ "It didn't work for either of you," is the implication there. And had him give the damn thing to her on top of that. Ugh. ]
... You know you don't have to put on that mask right?
[ That part is hesitant. Shadow Milk... probably? Remembers how his powers work. He should remember that he can see how that relationship changed him.
He knows Shadow Milk feels remorse. He knows it's complicated. ]
no subject
[Hardly. He was definitely just fucking with her.]
Ha?
[That actually catches him off guard! To have it called out so suddenly, so openly. It does take him a moment to remember Pavlova's abilities and to realize very suddenly that his heart is on display to him. That he can see all of that nasty mess going on in his chest. Oh.]
[That's way more vulnerable than he's comfortable with. He bristles almost, his hair moving to show that sudden discomfort before he manages to temper it. Oh to be seen. Awful.]
I- am nothing but a mask, Cherub.
no subject
... You're a lot more than that. You always have been.
[ What is it he said? The best lies hold a drop of truth? Every mask holds a piece of his father. He's just so fragmented now he can't tell how they fit together.
... his wings, clipped as they are, move to hug him as well. ]
But it's okay. I know you won't believe me.
[ ... too hard to accept, even from someone who inherited a piece of Knowledge itself. ]
I just don't want you to think you have to play a part for me y'know?
no subject
[But then, Pavlova says all that and, knowing he has the view he does into his heart, makes him lock up in surprise. He wants to protest, put on another act, perhaps even act rudely, coldly, and dismiss his words entirely. There's that part of him that riles up, the wild animal that bites when it feels cornered.]
[But he steps outside of it for a moment, and settles back down. Takes in that last part of his words and sighs a little.]
...You'll have to forgive your father, the mask is as much for me as it is for you.
no subject
[ No fuss, no pushing. Pavlova is a stubborn cookie, but he knows when to let up for his own sake as well as others'. Hollyberry needed the prodding, Shadow Milk would bite if prodded.
Instead he snuggles quietly into his father. Because no matter what role he felt like playing, the fact he was his dad remained. ]
... you startled me when you showed up at the Garden but... I did miss you. I was happy you were okay.
no subject
[Vanilla what the fuck is he supposed to do now? He's not the kind parental figure you were, how does he not destroy this with his own two hands like he has done so much already?]
The Witches themselves couldn't defeat us properly, it will take a whooooole army of them to crumble me, you know!
[But after a moment he leans, putting a tentative arm around him, drawing him in closer.]
Despite the nature of this place, I'm glad to see you safe and sound.
no subject
He does crack a little smile when his father says that. As though he hadn't gotten his ass handed to him by that former god. He won't point that out. Shadow Milk knows he knows and he still... looks up to him. He still trusts his ability to protect him ]
I know. My dad's the best.
[ ... That isn't a lie. ]
It was still scary. I remember when it happened. Getting sealed. I didn't know what was happening but Master had me and Sugarfly go into her jewelry box and... that's where we were stuck.
[ he had no idea what happened to his father for so long. Of course he was worried.
His father pulls him close and Pavlova lets his eyes close, arms wrapping around his father and tucking his face against him. ]
I love you, dad.
[ Truth. ]
no subject
[That isn't what's going to happen here, though something rises up in him that feels horror. Guilt almost. Is that love for him? Truly? Or is it actually for the Fount? Does Pavlova not realize they're different? No, they aren't, says a small voice, deep within his soul. He wants to twist this around so badly, warp it until it's Deceit, but he can't. He's left feeling bewildered, instead.]
[Shadow Milk's response is to take long, shuddering breath.]
[Is it possible for him to be loved, even with Pure Vanilla gone? Is there really anyone else out there besides Pure Vanilla that could?]
[Shadow Milk doesn't speak a response, but he does pull Pavlova in closer, tightly, possessively, and tries to smother what definitely sounds like a heaving sob so Pavlova doesn't notice. While he fails at words, Pavlova might be given the impression, mentally, as if Shadow Milk had floated the thought into his head himself, that he might return the sentiment.]
no subject
His love is for his father, whatever form he chooses to take. He doesn't love just one mask, he loves all of them.
Maybe that could be seen as foolish, but he doesn't really care. So far all of them have been sweet to him.
The implication of a returned sentiment is good enough for him right now. Pavlova may not be Pure Vanilla, but in a platonic sense his love wasn't going anywhere. ]
... I know things are difficult but I... I'm glad you're my dad. I wouldn't want anyone else.
[ He doesn't say more, though, with Shadow milk so overwhelmed, but he needs to know that much. So he can stop looking so nervous, like he's doing something wrong whenever they talk. ]