#rivervale_lodge

Dagmar parks, making sure Symon's okay to walk.

His knees feel a bit wobbly, but he manages!

"You should chill by the fire, I'll get Kerri... and tea? I mean you aren't all like super-sluagh-ish, but tea is good for tummies."

"Sure... sounds good." He moves in to hunch onto a stool by the fire, and can't help but think about drinking tea that Dagmar made for him, with her own two hands...

She rests a hand briefly on his shoulder after he sits, shooting a brief smile for reassurance. "We'll get you better."

And she's off to the kitchen!

Sally Mae looks over "hey there"

Symon has buried his face in his hands. "Mrrphh."

"Everything okay? " Sally Mae inquires

"Well.. reckon it must be" Sally Mae mmphs and goes back to her work

Kerri emerges from the kitchen. "Symon? Dagmar told me something's wrong?" She goes to take a seat near him, trying to get a look at his face without being too invasive.

"I, uh... can... can we talk somewhere private?"

His whisper even quieter than usual!

Dagmar is making tea and SOUP.

A blink. "Of course. Ah...SallyMae, can you let Dagmar know that Symon and I are in Sylvi's room. We'll be back down in a few minutes." She gestures for Symon to join her as she heads up the stairs.

Is that... kimchi?

Symon fidgets uncomfortably. And you've never seen fidgeting until you've seen a sluagh do it.

Kerri escorts him into Sylvi's room. The zombie hand has been relocated to Goldfinch, sort of a hold mascot.

"Sure..." Sally Mae goes to relay that

"Hunh. Okay. Gives me time to make this. Sally Mae, you know where the fish sauce is?"

"Have a seat," she offers, indicating the bed or the chair. Whichever he chooses, she takes the opposite.

A frown at the elaborate finger contortions. "You're...not yourself."

"Which sort?" Sally Mae shows the options

He gives Kerri a slightly desperate look. "I can tell you something in confidence, right?"

"Of course," she assures him with concern. "I'll warn you that if it's a danger to the Lodge or its people, I may have to bring it to the Chieftain, but I'll try to avoid that if possible. Symon, what on earth's going on?"

He unbuttons his shirt with shaking fingers, and shows her the mark on his chest. It looks almost like a welt, or a bruise maybe, or a scar for all that it is likely to heal by tomorrow - but for now, it's a clear shape of a heart.

"I was shot."

Kerri looks and, realizing what it is, is kind in that she doesn't outright smile at the situation. "Does it hurt?"

"No!" He glances around, and then leans in. "It was a dud. The damned cherub said so himself - or maybe it's me. I think, maybe I'm the dud."

A blink. "How would you be a dud?"

"The damned Cupid shot me. It's supposed to make you... " Oh, the embarassment on the teenager's face. "Uh. Romantically. Inclined. But I don't... I mean, ...Ann Marie always tries to set me up with someone. But I'm not interested. Eden said she liked me, and even after I was sure it wasn't a prank... I mean, she's perfectly nice, for a pooka... but I just don't - " He cuts off, looking miserably confused.

"Not being interested doesn't make you a dud. And...not being interested in Eden doesn't necessarily mean you wouldn't be interested in anybody, ever." A gentle tone. She knows he's struggling.

"But I'm not interested in anyone... like that. Even the cupid's shot. It just made me think of how good a friend Dagmar is. But I don't want to... you know... touch... Her?" His shoulders hunch up miserably.

"And I know it's not just a slug thing, either. The Librarian at Earthrunes has a Trueheart, and I met a FIONA sluagh... so it's me."

"Symon..." she says quietly, "...if that's how you feel, that's how you feel. It doesn't make you broken. It's a legitimate way to love. You care. And I know you're a loyal friend. What you have to offer is a tremendous gift. Not a dud."

"It's not like I don't like Dagmar, though. I thought... I had it figured out, that maybe why I didn't like anyone else... like that was because I did like Dagmar. But I knew she'd never like me, so... I was cool with that. You know, unrequited, and shit, Sluagh practically wrote that book.

But then I get this bullet and it makes me think, like REALLY think... and I realize I don't like ANYONE like that. But everyone does. I'm just - a rock, where that part of my brain should be. Or I really am as heartless as I tell people I am."

Not even seeming to realize that he's pouring our his heart - no, he has no heart - his secrets all over the floor.

She listens quietly while he speaks. "How do you like people. For example, Dagmar. How do you feel about her?"

"She's my partner." He answers immediately. "I want to be there for her... I can rely on her, and she can rely on me. I want to spend time with her, and listen to her, and we can talk about anyt- ...almost anything..."

"But nothing like, you know. Dirk and Prissy mashing it up. Or even Gerd and Wudlig sucking face when they think they're alone..."

A grin and a nod. "Like I said...that's a tremendous gift that you give to Dagmar. Wanting to be there for her, to listen, to share. That's important. That's a treasure." He can tell from her tone that she's being utterly sincere, not romantic or idealistic.

"But I'm not normal." He says, worriedly. "Even amongst monsters and creatures of all shapes and sizes. I'm... there's something wrong with me."

"I'm supposed to feel... those things."

Another uncomfortable fidget.

"You're unusual," she agrees. "But your difference is not a failing, as far as I see it."

"I'm surprised to hear you bowing to the convention of what others might think you're supposed to do."

He blinks, and gnaws toothlessly at his lip a bit. "It's not what others might think of me. It's just... biology. Isn't it?"

A blink. "Again, color me surprised. That's some fairly old-fashioned thinking. In short form: no, it's not just biology. There are a lot of different levels and forms of romantic interest that are completely 'normal' even if some are more uncommon than others."

A mutter. "Mom thinks I'm shy and keeps arranging meetups. 'Go pick up this package for me' only to find a goth delivery boy, or 'Return this to the store' and there's a sluagh chick at the returns counter... like, I don't know where she finds the time in her day. She works ALL the time. She's trying to help."

"I've told her I'm not interested but she just says I need to meet the right person." He scowls.

"You know she can't help wanting to help...." She trails off, thoughtfully.

"She should help Dirk then, he's the one all beat up over Prissy. I think - no I know, he's be happier if she had just beat him up instead of dumping him."

"Maybe," she nods. "I'm just wondering...Symon, I'll confess that I don't know if I really understand how the whole boggan 'call of the needy' thing works. Do you think she might be seeing an actual need for you? Or is she just seeing what she thinks is a need?"