revivalproject | closed ☾

Kiddo. It's like her heart does this funny little twist in her chest, and she feels a rush of fondness that she's not sure is her own feelings or the memory of them or what. It's just... confusing, and she's really starting to resent the situation that did it.

She shifts her weight to one foot, the movement somewhat awkward. A small line forms between her eyebrows, her mouth turning down.

"I have been..." She trails off, because that is a minefield of question, and she isn't really sure how to answer it truthfully. Merrin isn't the type of person to say fine just because it's polite. "Overwhelmed," she settles on finally, even if that doesn't feel quite right. "Much has happened. You are alright?"

Overwhelmed feels like the right answer. Cobb had felt that pretty strongly himself when he'd woken up from that reality. Seeing again had been a lot after a month of outlines and strange thermal visions of the world.

But like everything else overwhelming in his life he had pushed it down and focused on moving forward. It was the only way to go. It was the only way he knew how to live.

"I'm handling it. That wasn't a bad life so can't say I'm that upset by livin' it." He shrugged and leaned his shoulder against a wall. "Talked to Billy to check in with him. Figured you might want a little more time before we talked but I'm glad to see you."

Merrin is surprised to hear him say that he isn't that upset, and it shows on her face, her eyebrows raising. But... she can't disagree with him. It wasn't a bad life at all—even though she was still in a world where her sisters had died, she was still able to be... happy. It was a stark contrast to the six years she spent on Dathomir, with only Malicos and her anger and vengeance for company, until Cal showed up.

"I do not need more time," she says, blunt as ever. She just wishes she could take all this a little more like Cobb. He looks almost relaxed, leaning against the wall—unlike him, she stands stiffly, her hands curled at her sides. Even hearing that he's glad to see her—well, her expression does soften a little.

"You are not upset?" The question ends up sounding a little more vulnerable than she'd intended, as if she'd expected him to... to say it was all bad, even the parts where she was his daughter.

"That was the most peaceful life I've ever known," he said softly, seriously, with something like wistful sadness in his voice. "The kindest, the gentlest, and pretty loving. There's a part of me that misses it. No, I'm not upset Merrin. Far from it."

Yeah, a little part of him had been pissed off that his mind had been taken over but after thinking about it that life had been good. How could he be upset about that?

"But back to reality." He gestured to the house he was fixing up. "Figure we can be friends here. And look out for each other. And see what happens."

That's... touching. And she understands, because it's the also the most peaceful life she's had since her sisters were killed, where all she really had to worry about was school assignments and missed deadlines. And he's right—it was kind, and gentle, and loving. She can't really even say that for her childhood—Nightsisters aren't well known for being particularly kind or gentle.

"Yes. I would like that," she says, in that same soft and serious tone. She has no real way of knowing if the Cobb she knew in the city, who acted as her father, is the same or similar to the real Cobb—at least, not yet—but she does get the feeling that he's just as kind, gentle, and loving at his very core.

Her posture relaxing, she adds, "Nightsisters do not have fathers. I did not expect to ever have one, even for a short time. It was... a new experience."

Cobb thinks about it for a moment as he studies her. Should he tell her? She's practically a stranger to him in this world but there's that pull, that fake past between them. "Never knew my dad. He was sold before I was born."

His story wasn't that unusual in a slave commune. Parents got sold away all the time. According to his mama he had his father's eyes. Cobb didn't know. The man was a ghost in his life, just memories haunting his mother.

"Like to think I did a decent job for you there." They had seemed happy, teasing each other and looking after each other. Cobb felt he'd done well. Still felt like that even though their life together was made up.

"Sold?" she echoes, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Your father was sold into slavery?"

Admittedly, she's still a little sheltered, after having spent her whole life on Dathomir, with only secondhand stories from her sisters to inform her of the wider galaxy. Information that was then completely cut off when they'd all died—she didn't even know anything about the fall of the Republic and rise of the Empire.

Traveling with Cal and his crew for the short time she did before coming here certainly widened her perspective, but slavery—the formal kind where people are bought and sold—is still somewhat nebulous to her. She's never seen the reality of it.

"No, he was born into it. Just like me." Cobb looked away for a moment. His family line went way back on Tatooine. The Vanths had been slaves for generations. He was the first freed Vanth.

He sighed heavily and looked back at her. "I'd appreciate you keepin' quiet about this to the others. Don't like people knowin' what I was. It's not who I am now."

It was clear from his tone and expression that he was a little bothered by her knowing but she'd been his kind and always looked after him. He couldn't just forget that feeling.

Most people in the galaxy didn't know the reality of it. They got to ignore it on their fancy Core World. Cobb lived it and it wasn't pretty.

Maybe it's naivete showing through, but she looks surprised by the admission, that people can just be born into slavery, and their parents and loved ones can be taken from them so callously. She's not so naïve as to believe that the galaxy doesn't have dark corners, but... yes, she sees now why he would describe their alternate life as peaceful, compared to this.

"I am glad you are no longer a slave. I will do that," she assures him. "Keep quiet, if that's your wish." Secrets are very safe with her, though this one—it seems as though he's... ashamed of it, and it doesn't sit right with her. If anyone should be ashamed, it's the people who kept him as a slave in the first place, and she can feel a thread of cold, protective fury snake through her chest.

Probably not very helpful to unleash at the moment, though she does frown, her eyes narrowing slightly. (Tattooine was the name of his planet, wasn't it? Maybe she can take the Mantis on a detour, when she gets back.)

And she feels compelled to add, her tone very firm, "I do not know you so well yet, Cobb Vanth, but I believe that it was never who you are."

"Folks look at you different when they know," Cobb explains as he moves to do something with his hands. He needs to keep himself busy against the wave of unease he feels talking about this. He gets back to work on pulling out some rotted wall where there was a leak in the pipes.

"It's always gonna be a part of me, kid. I'll always carry it. It's not who I am now, you're right, but it's there." He can't ever escape that past. It's burned into the back of his neck, hidden behind a scarf around his neck even now when he's inside.

"Just like you'll always carry what hardships you went through." He yanks at the wall, tears it free and tosses it to a pile that's building up a little distance away. "But I'd rather folks didn't know that side of me."

He was trusting her a lot with that information. Hopefully, his trust wasn't misplaced.

"I understand." Hardships? Yes. Your past being a part of you? Yes. Hiding it from other people? Yes, even if she doesn't necessarily agree, if only because she's not in the habit of caring what other people think. If they pity her, then that's not her problem. But that doesn't mean that she can't respect his wishes. "They will not know. Not from me."

She pauses for a moment, silently watching him work, her brow furrowed. When she speaks again, it's with a very slight hesitation, though her voice is unwavering. "In that world, my family had died. You knew that when you took me in." There's another pause, in which she shifts her weight to one foot, gaze lowered. "It is the same here. When I was young, my sisters and mothers—my entire coven was cut down. I was the only one to survive, though I did not... no one took me in."

So she understands what it means to carry your past with you. The loss is hers now. It's who she is. They're similar in that way, and also in the way that she can't quite settle with her discomfort, and so she gestures to the wall he's working on. "This wall. It must be removed?" Give her a task to do and she'll do it, please, just be forewarned that it may involve some magick.

Like recognized like, Cobb thought. Merrin lived a hard lonely life losing all her family like that. At least Cobb could hope his family was still alive out there in the galaxy somewhere. She didn't have that. She'd never have that. Cobb would be fiercely protective of her here.

"Well, you've got somewhere here on your side," Cobb says with a nod at her. "Whatever that means to you."

They wouldn't be father and daughter. That just wasn't who they were here but Cobb figured they could be friends, at least.

"Not the whole wall, just this part here. Get rid of the wet stuff, find the leaky pipe, and then fix it up." Cobb only knew this from the Engineering information in his head. He gestures to the part that needs to be removed. "Shouldn't take too much work. Figure I'll be done with it by sunset."

Someone here on her side. First Cal, then Cere and Greez, and now Cobb. It... means a lot to her, actually, if only because it was a long time before anyone was ever on her side again. Before she had friends, people she could rely on. That's what sticks out to her most, after her experience in the city—looking back at her real life on Dathomir, after her sisters had fallen, it was... lonely. So crushingly lonely. In retrospect, she's not sure how she survived it.

"It means very much to me. Thank you, Cobb Vanth," she says quietly, sincerely. She wants to ask him more about his life before coming to Temba, how he became free—but she isn't sure how to do it right, without causing pain.

Instead, she turns and studies the wall, taking note of the section he'd pointed out that needs to be removed. "I will help," she announces, just before raising her hands and summoning her magick, misty green ichor flowing from her fingers and into the wall, pulling it free.

"Ah, just call me Cobb." He waves a hand at her. Using his last name feels so formal and they're well past that. It can be a sign of respect, he knows that, but Merrin didn't respect him less dropping the name.

Cobb's about to hand her a tool when the wall gets ripped out by her magic. It's exactly around the wet parts, smooth as anything. It reminds him of Obi-Wan lifting things with his mind just with a green glow he could see.

"Huh."

He's probably underestimated her all this time but when she explained magic he had just assumed it was like the Jedi. Nope, she's something else.

"Well, that takes care of that."

closed ☾

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject