[Magnus covers the not-hand with his own, and he's warm to the touch, if Noah can feel anything. it's not fair, the kind of dead Noah is. whether he can or can't feel, Magnus is gentle, when he squeezes bones that clack together]
[he shifts closer, to that shivering-flickering-nightmare, that is his friend Noah]
You're not being killed again. You're not nothing. You're still here, and I'm glad you are. And we'll figure out the next step together. [another squeeze, to that rattling hand. Magnus wishes he could touch Noah's hair, but he doesn't have any] Do you want to come out from under the couch? It's just me and you here, right now.
[Noah frowns, the scant remains of lips bending over broken teeth. He can feel the truth in Magnus’ words, and the comforting warmth of his offer, and after a moment, he lets himself seep from beneath the sofa. Evening light filters through his ragged sweater.]
I hate it. [His skeleton arms wind around himself, unnatural and eerie.] I don’t want to be this.
[he extends his arms out, for a hug. he offers them so rarely, it's a little macabre that there's no hesitation, when Noah's all bones and grim, psychic remains]
You'll be what you wanna be again, Noah. I promise.
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[His hand isn't much of a hand - just cold bones, some crooked and broken with defensive injuries - but he stretches it out anyway.]
The others don't all know. I can usually hide it.
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[Magnus covers the not-hand with his own, and he's warm to the touch, if Noah can feel anything. it's not fair, the kind of dead Noah is. whether he can or can't feel, Magnus is gentle, when he squeezes bones that clack together]
As long as you want.
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[He seems to seep closer to Magnus, solid but not, like a rattling breath.]
What if I never get it back?
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[he strokes fingers over bone, doesn't move, as Noah haunts him, even as the hair on the back of his neck stands up, from the sensation]
Or you can possess me, or something. We'll figure it out, Noah. I promise.
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I f-feel like I died all over again.
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[he can't heal dead; he can't heal ghostly auras. he can try to weave calm, at most]
Do you want me to use my seidr?
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There's nothing to help. This is all there is. [His voice is a nervous whisper.] They gave me a body, but this is all that's inside.
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[he shifts closer, to that shivering-flickering-nightmare, that is his friend Noah]
You're not being killed again. You're not nothing. You're still here, and I'm glad you are. And we'll figure out the next step together. [another squeeze, to that rattling hand. Magnus wishes he could touch Noah's hair, but he doesn't have any] Do you want to come out from under the couch? It's just me and you here, right now.
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I hate it. [His skeleton arms wind around himself, unnatural and eerie.] I don’t want to be this.
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[he extends his arms out, for a hug. he offers them so rarely, it's a little macabre that there's no hesitation, when Noah's all bones and grim, psychic remains]
You'll be what you wanna be again, Noah. I promise.