Realistic or Modern 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐞.

[mother of sorrows]

the dreams.

my footsteps echo to follow.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[mother of sorrows]

• .
• .

• 
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  I.
  the festival

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  sorcha and lev

  roleplay

  surviving eldritch
  

  tags

  ravensunset
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
• 
  He walked around a bit after that, changed out of his grass-blotched gear and the last of the rush in his limbs dying out; the steadily cooling air drifted through still damp hair, bringing with it the smell of roasting corn and cotton candy. An army of children stomped through the stalls and tipsy students laughed at unknown jokes. Every now and then he’d run into familiar smiles and congratulations, adding to the flush growing on his cheeks. Sami and Vitto were nowhere in sight, lost in the decent crowd - Lev craned his neck for a colorful mohawk or black curls, hoping they were still around. He squinted his eyes, stepping out behind a turn and -
  
  almost stumbling right into another person, hands just barely catching out on a shoulder. ‘’Oh, shit,’’ He blurted, spine jumping straight. ‘’My bad, I didn’t -’’
  
  Recognition cut his words short, eyebrows jumping up.
  
  Hair tucked in two ponytails, a soft face painted with green and yellow, dress flowing in the evening breeze. Sorcha Donohue, from the DnD club and idle conversation in campus hallways. Lev’s always slightly displeased expression shifted into something not quite friendly, but bordering on it; he snapped his hand back when it was sure she was not in danger of toppling over, giving an apologetic nod.
  
  ‘’Sorry about that. You alright?’’ A heartbeat of silence. ‘’I didn’t know you were at the game.’’
  
  “Oh! Sorry!” The words slipped out of Sorcha automatically as she felt someone hit against her. She’d split from Sami not long after the game had ended, and fell right into the festivities, following the crowds and smell of fun.
  
  The hand on her shoulder belonged to Lev. His cheeks were flushed, and she wondered if it was from the autumn wind or the bonfire or the excitement of the night. He took his hand away, leaving her shoulder feeling suddenly cold where he’d touched it.
  
  “I was! You were great, or, from what I gathered! ‘m glad I caught you now!” Sorcha was sure he had many congratulating him, but it didn’t stop her from adding to it. The high of the game hadn’t faded, instead, the celebration and cheers of students around her, sounds coming from the set up booths only added to it, “You doin’ anything in particular here?”
  
  A ghost of a smile flickered over his face at that - gone faster than a blink and yet prideful enough to have been there. It’s not that Lev had too much of an ego. But anybody likes to hear they have done well, especially when you tried your best. He tucked his hand back into his pocket, preening just the tiniest bit.
  
  ‘’Thanks. They played really well.’’ Lev side-stepped an unruly duo of screaming children just in time, barely avoiding being caught in sticky hands. ‘’Oh. I was looking for Vitto or Sami, but I have no idea where those two ran off to.’’ Vitto might have gotten stuck in a tree again. Sami, probably terrorizing the local populace. The beginnings of a frown started on the horizon, stifled just in time with a realization. Lev, the absolute genius of conversation, truly the smoothest, asked;
  
  ‘’You?’’
  
  “Probably off having their own fun. Oh, I don’t know,” Sorcha was glad for her voice’s natural volume, the festival’s sounds fluctuating around them. She hid a laugh as Lev was almost toppled by a couple of running children, “Lookin’ ‘round? It’s all a little overwhelming.” Sorcha had been following the motions of the crowd, but despite the booths and stalls, she still hadn’t picked one to approach.
  
  As she looked at him, his height, thinking back to his form on the field, her eyes briefly narrowed with a realization, and she straightened up even brighter than before. “So football, huh? Make you any good at carnival games?” She asked, glancing to the side at a booth that required throwing soft balls at targets for a chance at prizes.
  
  His eyebrows shot up at that.
  
  A pause of hesitation followed, fighting to not pinch his face together. Lev was not too keen on telling he’s wasted more money than he should on these games as a kid; it was an embarrassing detail with how often he lost at them. Granted, it did give him some knowledge on how to aim just right. But still, this is beyond dumb. A grown man, playing one of these things? Seriously, is he twelve?
  
  He was about to protest - think of some excuse - but Sorcha’s beaming face made him think twice.
  
  Lev looked left. He looked right. Repeated it to make sure nobody he knew could act as a witness to this happening - somebody, somewhere would find a reason to hold this over his head, he just knows it. It would be an asshole move to ruin this for Sorcha. She’s new here and this is her first Harvest Festival; and really, she looked excited enough to make even Lev break down. At least somebody should be with her so she’s not lost or confused.
  
  ‘’Those are all rigged, you know.’’ He complains to regain his reputation, but moves towards the stall regardless. ‘’We could try a few times though, if you want. Even if the prizes are crap.’’
  
  He turns back to her, giving a nod to follow if she’s up for it. ‘’Which one are you eyeing?’’
  
  “We’ll give it a lash, it’ll be fun. Would be a waste of your talent sittin’ it out,” Sorcha started, before she realized he wasn’t disagreeing. He started forward, and she followed along, her happy steps causing the basket in hand to bounce as she walked.
  
  “I’m not any good. Don’t quite have the strength in me.” She stated, no mind to it beyond placing words out into the air, “We never celebrated like this. It’s like the whole town’s outside.”
  
  When he asked, she looked over at him, trying to connect the Lev in front of her to the one at D&D sessions, the one who’d interrupted Reggie and fought with Angelina (he’d been right to, she thought). Part of him, she thought, was the same. He’d been hesitant, and sure to point out the games would be rigged. Despite that, there he was, offering to play for just her.
  
  “Was lookin’ at that one.” Sorcha pointed at the pins of stuffed toys on the stall, a collection of round and fuzzy looking creatures.
  
  Lev gave a vague noise of agreement, settling in line behind a couple of middle schoolers. ‘’Probably is.’’ He glanced at her, making an expression that was just shy of almost being friendly. ‘’Not like much else happens here.’’
  
  A strange thought occurred to him, then, that this is the first time they've had an actual conversation. The few times they've met in halls has mostly been directions to classrooms and the occasional comment about the weather; and even in the club they never really talked. He was curious, maybe just the tiniest bit - curious in a 'Mira pretending to not listen in' way. ‘’I’m guessing your hometown was even smaller than this?’’ His gaze flickered over the array of fuzziness, settling on the ones Sorcha pointed out.
  
  “Oh, I don’t know. Feels like something new’s going on all the time,” She didn’t realize until after the words had left her how true that feeling was. Standing in line in a brand-new festival for a carnival game with Lev Kovitsky of all people, someone she’d met trying out Dungeons and Dragons, and being there right after properly watching a football game, too. She wondered, vaguely, if everything blurred into a certain normalcy after long enough, if it felt that way to him.
  
  Sorcha had spent much time looking around the festival, from observing the activities to watching the partiers go by. By then, however, she had settled on looking at the man she was conversing with. “‘Round this size, actually. So, suppose it was just, different,” She replied, giving a shrug, “Maybe I was just used to it. Have you always lived here?”
  
  Different. Lev tried to imagine what her town must look like, pieces crammed together from atlases and scaverged information about Ireland. The closest he has ever been to its shores was one cold, December trip to France that left him with wet socks and a hatred for subways - and that is not close at all. The picture did not quite come together and Lev felt it too awkward to ask more. He cleared his throat.
  
  ‘’Yeah. I was born here.’’ Whenever any of the road changes displease her, his mom likes to say she was aiming for New York City instead.
  
  The worker gestured them closer before Lev could rush for words, explaining the rules he already knew but did not want to admit before a co-club member; he took the balls with a quiet ferocity that spoke of a bit too much eagerness (or perhaps built-up murderous intent.) He eyed the targets with a calculated look, trying to weight out the impact needed. It was easy to see why losses pile up at these sorts of games; it takes more strength than you expect to throw these things.
  
  But Lev was familiar with the routine of it, and he’s grown since high school - the worker could only do as much as blink before the ball went flying, knocking over the bull’s eye with a big THUMP.
  
  The worker blinked. Gave Lev a flabbergasted stare when the man pointed at the cluster of fur, just the tiniest bit smug.
  
  ‘’One of those, please.’’
  
  He got two more wins and two exchanges of giant, audaciously heavy animals before the stink eyes from the staff came in, telling Lev that his rampage is done for the day; he walked back with shoulders straight and arms straining to keep the plushies from springing upon any passing innocent. Lev had the decency to be somewhat sheepish, all too aware of how stupid he looks right now - he can’t quite match Sorcha’s eyes.
  
  ‘’So, uh. Which one did you want again?’’ The white one, right? The…
  
  Lev stares at the plush Sorcha pointed at earlier. The plush stares back accusingly.
  
  ‘’...What. Is that thing.’’ It didn’t even look like an animal. Star-shaped, round, with two little eyes that reminded Lev of pebbles and absolutely no features to set it near the animal kingdom. Lev offered it to Sorcha with a hint of fear and curiosity, silently deciding that whatever it is, it reminds him of a hysterical dust bunny. At least it was… cute. Kind of. Like a dog that bites your ankles.
  
  Sorcha hadn’t quite the time to ask for more details before they reached the front of the line, the rules explained to them. A step to the side to allow Lev to stand centered, the ball weighed in his hand.
  
  If Sorcha had been the target, held in front of his focused gaze, she thought that look alone would be enough to knock her right over.
  
  Her hands clapped together as the bull’s eye was hit, once and then twice and then a third time before their turn was up.
  
  “Isn’t it crackin'? It’s adorable!” Sorcha took the plush, surveying it in her hands. It was shaped like the stars and not only fluffy but properly soft, three inlaid dots in its face forming an expression reminiscent of a small puppy, asking to be held. Sorcha had always loved trinkets, any soft or shiny toy, a pocketed memory, but there was something even more to the feeling of this, “That was amazing! It was worth it, I’d said.”
  
  Lev was holding himself straight, keeping the mass of plush together. She thought he looked awfully impressive, the stuffies’ abnormal size only accenting his height and posture. And arms. She looked between him and her new prize, then placed it on top of her picnic basket, “He’s my Toto now,” She commented, remembering her costume.
  
  He did give a full smile at that, finally - stifled under a quick nod, maybe, but it was there enough to be seen. Lev was a tad proud at how excited Sorcha was, feeling as if he had won twice in one night. ‘’Your Toto looks…’’ He hesitates over the word ‘grotesque.’ ‘’Uh, you talked about a lion costume, right?’’
  
  Lev didn’t dare be seen in it for too long. But Sorcha had mentioned it, and it would have been mean even for him to leave her without anyone to match. He would have to go to his car to get it, and he didn’t feel like carrying bag-of-flour heavy plushies all night. A thought occurred to him then, one that made him clear his throat.
  
  ‘’By the way, do you need a ride to the bonfire?’’
  
  
  
  

designed by bad ending & coded by xayah.ღ