Who: Conor (narrative) What: The past is in the past When: May 26, late night Where: Ice Garden Etc: Tarot challenge, 8 of cups
Conor sat cross-legged on the floor of the Ice Garden. Customers wandered in and out occasionally, but no one bothered him, tucked away in a corner as he was. There was nothing particularly interesting here, so people tended to ignore it. This wasn't entirely accidental, Conor had realized that keeping a spot to himself was necessary, and useful, for when he wanted to be alone and think.
He'd left Zanna's trailer shortly before the gates opened, slipping quietly through the softly lit paths of the Cirque. He grabbed a sandwich from the dining hall on his way to the Garden, he hadn't really eaten much all day. He was tired, strung out from being woken nightly by Diana's apparition. Zanna had had to wake him up more than once from a nightmare, since he was unable to move, or speak, or rouse himself at all. He was going to be very happy when they left Danvers.
He glanced up as he heard voices growing fainter. The handful of guests seemed to be leaving, and try as he might, he couldn't hear any other sounds. Once he stood, it was confirmed: he was alone in the Garden. (Well, Oighear was probably there somewhere, but the cat was quiet as a whisper.) He left his hidden spot and walked out into the clearing he'd made in the middle. It was here that he'd built a snowman with Cass and Bri, and kicked off his rather intense relationship with Cass that had followed. The space was empty now, broken only by scattered footprints. It made something clench in his chest.
He saw a flash of color under a bush, and knelt down to retrieve whatever it was. It was the oversized carrot Cass had made for his snowman, which had come complete with a smattering of innuendo. It was frozen solid, its vibrant orange color dulled by a thick layer of frost. Conor could only stare at it, his heart thumping painfully in his chest. He had understood why Cass had left, really. Bri's mom wasn't a great person, but she was still the mother of his child. Of course he wanted to check on her. But he still couldn't help but feel left behind. Even with a means of contact, he still felt alone.
The carrot was a heavy, solid lump in his hand, and Conor still didn't know what to do with it. He swallowed hard as he looked at it again, before hurling it to the ground and watching it shatter. Orange shards went everywhere, but he didn't even care. The snow would cover them soon enough, and customers would eventually wear them away to nothing. He turned sharply and walked away from the clearing, before he did something stupid like gathering up all the pieces. He'd be fine. After all, he was always fine, and he was always alone. He'd managed without Cass for a very long time, and once this particular hurt scarred over, he'd manage without him again. Maybe if he told himself that often enough, he'd start to believe it.
"This is why it's pointless to trust people with your secrets," he told Oighear. "Always comes back to bite you in the end."
Oighear meowed, butting at Conor's hand with his head. Conor scooped him up, cradling him in the crook of his arm. Oighear purred happily, and Conor scratched his ears. He wished he could stop the memories that were playing on a loop behind his eyes, but it seemed like tonight, they wouldn't go away so easily. He needed them to, though. Or at the very least, they needed to lay more quietly in his mind.
They had to.
He refused to be stuck in the past any longer than he had to be.