#type: doc

STELLA

They were actually doing this. They were actually here, going through with this whole wild plan. Of course, it was her fault they had to do this in the first place. She couldn’t help but feel guilty, sitting in the back seat, looking at her wand more than the maps on her phone. She ran her thumb over the gemstone set in the middle. All of the things that had gone so wrong, not just with her but the whole history of her home, that led to this. 

She had to wonder if it was all worth it to those in control. Was Mjaunie really worth it to the commission? Or was it just a stepping stone to the potential for even wider spread destruction and control?

It was terrifying, really, knowing that not only her family’s lives, but the lives of all those deemed “Monsters” in Mjaunie were at stake. 

Her mother’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Hm? Oh, um… yeah, just a few more kilometers, then you’ll turn left,” she said, not glancing up from her wand. This wasn’t hers, though. Not really. She was still in possession of the Family Wand. How much harm had this one object done? Was there any fixing what her family had broken?

MENODORA

Everything was stiff and awkward between herself and Stella. Despite their growing resolve, their personal lives were still in desperate need of repair. Mending these things takes time, of course, but Menodora wishes she could have a wand or snap her feelings and reassure Stella with words like a hug.

Menodora glances at Cass, confirming the directions, before she turns in her seat to look back at Stella. 

Her little girl, all grown up. 

Sometimes River used to drive them down to the southern point of Mjaunie, a lively area with local stalls and businesses. It felt extravagant to take a car when they could walk, but at the same time, there was a certain thrill to being in a motor vehicle.

Stella used to try to free herself from her car seat. Menodora can't remember if they still did that by the time Stella was in a booster seat.

“Talk to me, Starlight, are you okay?”

It's a stupid question. So she follows it up with, “what are you thinking about?”

STELLA

What was she thinking about? What wasn’t she thinking about right now. She kept looking out the window, not really wanting to look at her mother. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to look at her, no. That sounded wrong. She couldn’t look at her. She couldn’t bear to look at anyone right now. She could barely stand the glimpses of her reflection in the window. 

“It’s just a lot,” she finally said softly. “It’s… I know things were bad before, but if we can’t do this then they’ll be so much worse and—” it would be all my fault. She doesn’t voice that part. Just sniffles a bit, hugging her arms around herself tighter.

“I’m thinking of all the things that could go wrong. All the ways we could get caught. All the worst case scenarios,” she murmured. “For a while I wouldn’t think about those at all, I was just being positive and hoping this would all work out, but… I guess those thoughts had to come out sometime.”

MENODORA

Stella's fears and worries are justified. Make sense. Menodora turns back in her chair, having noticed the way Stella would look anywhere but at her. 

“It was silly of me to have asked,” Menodora says softly, though it's meant to be a comfort. “Of course it's a lot, I didn't mean to trivialize it.”

She glances at Cass for a moment, wondering what Cass would do right now. Cass was always good at the ‘reassuring’ thing.

“There's no scenario where I won't be by your side, Stella,” Menodora says, trying to muster up confidence in her tone. “Nothing is broken forever, we can make this better. Make this right, alright? You can be very persuasive, and you have a good cause. Surely Glossaryck can't deny you at least the time to hear you out. He may be laissez-faire, but he's not heartless.”

STELLA

Stella gave her mother a quick wave of her hand, dismissing the comment. She didn’t trivialize it. Not intentionally. For once, this seemed like her mother was genuinely trying to connect. Not dismiss Stella’s fears as silly or childish, not even to trivialize this situation. But what else do you even ask someone in such a situation?

Especially as she continued. Stella glanced her mother’s way, the smallest smile at the edge of her lips. At least Moon saw the flaws now. Finally. That the system was broken; she all but said that out loud. 

“But…” she started, not really wanting to finish. “But what if he doesn’t listen? Or what if he refuses to help? What are we— what do I—?” She could feel her heart rate rising knowing how the pendulum would swing if they couldn’t convince him. All of them made enemies of Mjaunie, all being tried and executed for being and conspiring with monsters. She tried to take deep calming breaths, slow and steady like she’d done before the play. Calm. She could be calm. She could do this. They would do this. 

MENODORA

They’ve come a long way from early morning fights at the breakfast table. Arguing and storming off and then arguing some more. It felt like all these topics that they danced around or didn’t feel quite as obvious  – the corruption and unfairness of Mjaunie’s system, the unrealistic expectations it foisted upon them – were allowed to live in the light. Be seen as the ugly truths that they both knew them now to be.

“If he doesn’t listen..” Menodora starts, though she doesn’t entirely know how to finish. It’s a good question. Then what? What can any of them do in that case? “Then we still stand in front of the Commission and make our case and try to convince the commission to split their own vote–...”

The will to finish that thought seems to die slowly. And what? Let Stella die? Because Menodora was too focused on decorum and propriety and pride? To finish out a trial that might end with them dead? It would be easy to run, allowing cowardice to take over, but to do so would be to leave monsters at Mina Loveberry’s mercy.

No one wins in any scenario, really. Winning the challenge, though, feels like the least amount of harm, at least.

“We will ask Glossaryck for help and if we fail we figure something else out,” Menodora says with a soft smile, trying to be reassuring. It likely falls flat, though. Menodora’s never done well with uncertainty.

STELLA

For as much as Stella and her mother had their differences, for as many flaws as they both had, one thing Stella so rarely saw from her mother was uncertainty. Especially in situations such as this. Where things mattered, where the county was involved. Sure, in the past her mother’s view of the commission and their policies was flawed but she at least spoke with conviction about them. 

So the hesitancy here was stressful to say the least. She wished Moon would tell her she was being silly for being so worried but they were so far past that. 

“Okay,” she said softly, giving her a small nod. They would figure it out. They had to. Even if they had to go on the run, even if they had to fight the commission, Stella was determined to figure something out. 

She just hoped Glossaryck would listen.

MENODORA

Moon turns to face forward, watching the road come and come and come. The more distance they cross, and yes, they could go back if they so chose. Physically, they could go back to Swynlake and try to make a case. Possibly seek legal help. That would be a mundane option. That would be an option that made sense. 

Nothing seemed to make sense to Moon anymore. In the past year, everything had turned on her and Stella. Their lives were on the line, and if not their lives, their way of life.

Menodora glances over at Cass, who seems to be doing them the courtesy of letting them talk without judgment or commentary.

“I won’t let them hurt you, Stella,” Menodora promises, though she truly wonders how much of that is, well, a lie. “We’ll figure it out, we’ll get answers. And even if Glossaryck won’t help us, I’ll pour over the charter and come up with something. We’ve got a little under a month. We can do this.”

STELLA

Stella was focusing on the passing scenery again. Thinking about all her friends at home. And how much she had to explain, how much she failed to explain. Would she tell them if this was all going to shit? She’d tell Mim of course, and there was an obligation and need to tell Banzai as well, but the others? Her friends that didn’t sit as close to this side of her life, would she burden them with the feelings and fear and stress of her potential demise? Or just let them wonder “hey whatever did happen to Stella Butterfly?”

It wasn’t herself that she was worried about. It was everyone else. It was every Monster she’d be sending to a life of misery and potentially torture in Mjaunie if this failed this. It wasn’t just her life on the line, and in some ways that was the one that was the least of Stella’s concerns.  

Stella Butterfly

As soon as the shock and, admittedly, relief and joy of having her mother back settled, Stella had immediately began to spiral. She told her mother everything. Everything that had happened since Hekapoo picked her up in Ralph's apartment to making the pie with Cass and Mim. She told her about her discoveries, about Eclipsa and actually going through the forest and finding, about bringing her to Swynlake, about Ralph and what he had done, about his own trial with Hekapoo and the truth of what he'd done spurring her to challenge the commission. Word vomit of terrible thing after terrible thing, confiding in her mother her stress and fears like she'd never done before.

Because maybe there was a small part of her that understood her better now. She'd been in her shoes, even for a brief time. And she had hated every second. She hated it so much that she found the truth and decided to put a stop to it. Some might call it breaking a cycle. Perhaps she was, regardless of the outcome of this Challenge. Either way, this was going to be a new era in Mjaunie, for better or worse. 

She didn't remember falling asleep. She vaguely remembers her mother soothing her, bringing her a blanket and tucking her in. When she wakes up in the morning, her hair a bit of a mess from how she'd slept, her eyes groggy with sleep, she has a moment of not knowing where she is. Her mouth is dry and her eyes burn, dehydrated from all her crying. She sits up and looks around, trying to blink the sleep from her eyes when finally she sees Moon.

Stella tries to smile but she's not a morning person, so its tired and unenthused. But it is genuine--it comes from a genuine place in her. 

"Hi," she says, clearing the sleep from her throat. She squints against the sun streaming in through the window. "What-- Oh, um... sure?" she stretches as she sits up more. "Sometimes I like coffee but... juice sounds good. Maybe some water too, please?" she hates how tacky the inside of her mouth feels.

And for a moment she truly doesn't remember all the horrors she'd spilled the night before. She's still in this space of waking up where the world isn't quite real and things are a little less serious. 

Menodora Perhonen

For a moment, Menodora braces for rejection. She braces for the possibility that Stella will have decided that it was a mistake to confide in her mother; Stella might hate her once again for things that would be entirely appropriate to hate her for.

Instead, Stella says hi, and it's not saying that everything was alright, but it's not an outright rejection. Menodora smiles at that. She's grateful. 

She brings Stella a glass of water and orange juice, setting them on the side table. It's cautious, overall. Not so much that she was worried about spills, but because this proximity to Stella felt foreign.

"I've got pancakes," Menodora says, straightening her posture and walking back towards the kitchen. "Also some fresh fruit, and if you'd rather have a parfait I can do that."

Perhaps it's silly to be so nervous around Stella, but there was another component to this that Menodora didn't want to address. How was it so easy as Mena to say the things that Menodora only wished she would as herself. 

I'm proud of you, being the most prominent thing. Yes, Menodora had said it when she'd given Stella the shears, but saying it as Mena when Stella was going to face her quest - that Mena hadn't even known what it was? 

There's a shame burning in Menodora's chest for that.

Why was she better when she was not her?

Every time. Every time, in every dream, in every reality? Why?

"I suppose," Menodora says, stacking some pancakes on a serving plate, "that we have to talk about what you told me last night. And a plan for moving on." 

Stella Butterfly

“Pancakes sound good,” she says, yawning. “Thank you.”

She sits there for a moment, hearing her mother in the kitchen. It’s like some weird alternate reality that she’s woken up in. A world where everything is fine and they’re both normal. 

The bubble pops as Moon brings up the obvious. 

“Right,” she says. “I… um… which part?” She’d said a lot of things. 

And maybe if she weren’t so tired it would’ve clicked that obviously there was only one part she probably wanted to come up with a plan for. 

Her mind is mostly focused on the smell of pancakes filling the apartment. 

Menodora Perhonen

She sees Stella's trepidation and Moon's heart stops for a moment. Is she saying the wrong thing? Has she gone too fast? Stella asks which part and Moon tilts her head. Though, then she recalls all those times that they'd fought over Stella getting up in the morning, even erupting into full-on shouting matches. Moon remembers she ought to be patient so she serves Stella's mean at the table. 

"Well, I suppose how to move forward with finding Glossaryck and ensuring you win the challenge for Mjaunie. I'm not countess anymore, I don't think I ever shall be again, so I ought to defer to you, don't you think?"

Menodora brings her own plate and coffee to the table, sitting across from where Stella's seat was. 

"Syrup, Starlight?" Moon offers, sliding the dispenser towards her. 

Stella Butterfly

Her mother deferring to her made her wonder if she was still asleep and this was some weird dream. But no. It was very clearly reality. Because if it was a dream the whole challenge thing wouldn't even be mentioned. 

"Right, yeah," she nods, feeling a little queasy. Thankfully there's food, so hopefully that solves the problem. 

"Thank you," she says as she takes the syrup, drowning the poor unsuspecting pancakes in it. "Um, yeah, I guess if you... have any insight on where I could find Glossaryck, that'd... be a big help?" it felt weird talking to her mother about all of this. Like her memories came back and some sort of switch flipped and everything was different between them now. 

It wasn't, she knew, but there were bigger issues at hand. And it was clear to them both, it seemed, that despite it all, they cared deeply for each other. So that may be enough of a resolution to that conflict for now. 

Menodora Perhonen

That's something Moon's not too easily able to help with. The whereabout of Glossaryck have been a mystery to Menodora for as long as she can remember. At least, when he wasn't at the estate... Menodora's shoulders slump slightly and she looks rather reproachful.

"I'm sorry," she says, quietly, "I don't know." It sounded like quitting. It sounded like giving up. She shakes her head and looks up at Stella, "but that doesn't mean I can't try to find out. I'll give it some thought, alright, darling? I'm sure I have a memory or two I can share somewhere, they just might not have come back to me yet."

She smiles, trying to be optimistic. "It was interesting. When I was a child, he seemed relatively indifferent to current events. Always made a big deal about getting away to enjoy the fresh air, you know. A djinn and all, he wasn't tethered the Mjaunie the way that we were. I always got the impression he'd stay for a strategy meeting and then go off to wherever he could to observe from afar."

The thought strikes Moon then that she wasn't aware of how much Stella knew from that time. Nothing, probably, if Stella didn't find it on her own or Elsa hadn't shared Moon's memories with her.

"He wasn't interested in politics," Menodora admitted. "Just the pure principals of magic. I don't think he sees or saw the effects or consequences of war. Just.... magic in use. And nature running it's course." 

Stella Butterfly

It was interesting to hear more about Glossaryck, even if Moon didn't know where he was. Which was... a wrench in the plan for sure, but at least she could get some information about who he was as like, a guy. Maybe she could put some pieces together?

"So how'd he get involved in it all, anyway? If he didn't seem that interested in the politics side. That's like, all the Commission seems concerned with, really. So why does he default to side with them?" she wondered, a little frustrated about all of this still.

She took a bite of her breakfast to try to calm down. 

"He always seemed connected to that Book of Spells," she recalled. "Could there be answers in there about where he might run off to? Or... a way to summon him back? Do you think there's any way to get that back from the Commission?" 

Menodora Perhonen

Menodora sighs. "I think," Menodora says, quietly, "he came with the territory. In the sense that he's been around forever, either drawn to Mjaunie when our family first arrived or, more of my suspicion, tying himself when they they proved magical prowess. I'd say Glossaryck was more interested in magic for magic's sake. It's why he stuck around so long. I... At this point, with so many wars, it's possible we could have even bored him after all the skirmishes."

She thinks, has another bite of breakfast herself.

"I think it's because The Commission asked and Glossaryck agreed. He doesn't feel particularly strongly about anything, and he doesn't care for presiding over matters that don't concern him. This would not concern him. Even if I think it should."

Moon's face is more serious now. She does wonder how Glossaryck could have possibly gone so long as a steward of a land he seemed to lack investment in. His binding to the place was possibly a reason. Or perhaps it was a way to control him as an incredibly powerful djinn.

Stella asks if it's possible to get the book back and Menodora grimaces. It was a good thought, but, "I doubt the Commission would let us take it. Let you take it. By asking or by force. It's a good idea, though. I recall bits and pieces of the histories that weren't taught to you. By my own tutor, actually. I must wonder if there's something in them that could give us some answers." 

Stella Butterfly

That all felt like it would have been something important to learn in one of her history classes. Then again, half the stuff she'd discovered during her stint as countess probably should have been taught to her, but as it turned out the Commission was super full of liars and hypocrites. 

Her heart sunk when her mother said this wouldn't concern him. Because... well, it was wrong. So what if he was a being above mortal concerns, this should concern him! If he wasn't on the Commissions side, they would probably hunt him down and lock him back in the book. 

"Does your tutor remember the whole book? That thing's like... huge," she said. Then, she remembered who her mother's tutor was and she frowned. "Could we actually trust them more than the commission? What if they lie to us too?" 

Menodora Perhonen

Menodora has to think on that one. Would Tófi have remembered it? Tghey didn;'t seem to care for it at all. 

"I doubt it. It's been years, and when they cut ties with our family line... well, I don't know if it's worth asking." There's a distance in her smile. "I doubt they're interested in helping, either."

There's a deep sigh building in Menodora's chest. She feels the weight of hopelessness pressing down on her shoulders, but now's not the time. She's to come up with solutions and help Stella.

Her thoughts drift. She turns her fork in her hand.

"I-- I have to think that there's some place in Mjaunie that Glossaryck is most likely to be. Somewhere he'd have an affinity for. I'll have to look in my books, but I might... I might be able to come up with something. The issue, though, becomes getting to Mjaunie, even if we track him down. Hekapoo will know if you cross a portal... let alone myself, who should have no business with portals if my memory is still failing. No, this is going to take some creative problem solving."

The sigh is released and Menodora gives Stella the most earnest attempt at reassurance that she can.

Menodora Butterfly-Johansen

The past few days have felt like wave after wave of useless heartache. It was no one’s fault but her own that she’s estranged herself from everyone. Stella at the Carnival, River back in Mjaunie, Cass at the auction…

It’s been a few days now, and Moon’s frustration with herself has only grown. (Maybe she should stop being so self-important, but she figures the self-deprecation balanced itself out.) Was Moon really so clueless that she couldn’t see any of those signs? Or maybe it was because she’d been such an absent friend that she hadn’t considered a single concern in Cass’s life.

The problem with being blinded by your ‘love’ for a friend is that you can only see them in the way you want to – doing well, being successful, being loved… she didn’t notice the struggles Cass was experiencing. To Moon, Cassandra was perfect. It was an unfair expectation.

It’s an almost cruel cue to end on as there’s a knock on her door. Moon looks up, wondering who it could be. Not a package, not Oswald… unless Oswald suddenly decided to be spontaneous. No.

“One moment!” Moon calls, really not caring for the fact she hasn’t even gotten properly dressed today. But that’s fine. She’d done her run along Lakeside this morning and showered after, so she’s mostly been lounging in her silk robe over a nightgown. It’s a bit mortifying to open the door and see Cass. “Oh. Cassandra. Hi. What– can I do for you?”

Cass Hamada

It didn’t take much time for the anger and upset to fade and a sharp embarrassment to take its place. It didn’t matter that she was literally a woman in her 40s, moments like this made her feel the exact same way she had when she was a teenager and all her emotions felt too big for her body. It was far too easy for her mouth to run away with her impulsive thoughts, and then once she calmed down, she had to pick up the pieces. 

She thought about texting Moon, but she didn’t. Their recent text history was…strange in so many ways, and she was afraid of it being caught in that strangeness. But more importantly, Moon deserved better than that. 

As always, any apology from her came with food. Something this big? Only one thing would satisfy. 

Nervously approaching Moon’s door with the batch of freshly made donuts filled with some of Moon’s favorite flavors from when she came by the cafe, she gave a brief knock. The vision of Moon that greeted her was, well. Surprising. She couldn’t remember if she’d ever seen Moon in something as casual as a robe, especially at this time of day. She can’t think about what it means. She’s here on a mission, and she can’t get derailed. 

“Um. Can I come in? I wanted to apologize, but if you’re busy, I don’t have to stay, but I brought donuts.” 

Menodora Butterfly-Johansen

It's almost alarming how seeing Cassandra inspires more trepidation than excitement. Since when had that been the case? Cassandra Hamada always reminded Menodora a little bit too much of home. Flour-stained sweaters and confection smudged sleeves. She was sunshine that streamed through a baker's kitchen, disrupted by the dust of powdered sugar floating on the air.

Yet none of that matters at this moment as Moon feels a quiet dread at inviting Cass inside.

Nothing was out of place, nothing was incriminating. Maybe Cassandra would notice small things if she scoured the apartment, like the fact that Menodora had been drinking more. And the fact she'd been washing bedding more often. But aside from small tells of her apartment, Moon made sure everything else looked as it should, including the marks on her throat from some, perhaps, over-eager acts.

"Sure," Moon settles on after a moment. She steps aside, holding the door open. "That's very kind of you, thank you."

And part of her does soften seeing Cass there so earnestly. It's not that she expected an apology, or needed one. If Cassandra were still mad at her, Menodora would have understood.

"To clarify, I'm not busy," she adds, shutting the door behind Cass. "But I am woefully underdressed. Do you mind if I take a moment to change? You're welcome to make yourself at home. You always are.”

Cass Hamada

It feels awkward, stepping inside. Moon was always more formal than Cass was, but normally it didn’t bother her. It was just a different way of speaking, and most of the time they were able to flow together easily enough. But this time, there’s an edge to all of it, and she hates it. It’s why she needs to apologize as quickly as possible and figure out how to fix this. 

She missed her best friend. 

“No, no, that’s fine, of course! I surprised you, take whatever time you need.” She smiled cheerfully, hoping it would reassure Moon a little bit. 

Once Moon left the room to get changed, Cass followed old habit and went straight over to the kitchen. She’d been here often enough to know where everything was, so it only took a moment to have the kettle on for tea, mugs prepped, and the donuts artfully displayed on the plate. She felt better with her hands busy anyway. 

Menodora Butterfly-Johansen

The issue, Menodora decided, with being a recluse – as she had been of late – was that you miss so much. You miss cues, you miss news, you miss your friends. The world keeps turning, and here she was, something of a coward, hiding in her apartment. She slips out of her more casual (as nice of a term as she can call basically pajamas) attire and settles on a blouse and skirt. Typical for her, but maybe that would be better. It was less formal than the clothes she went to events in, which meant it was less formal than the dress she had worn when the two of them had argued.

She neatens her hair, straightens out her clothes, and finds Cass has already prepared everything for their visit by the time she returns.

“Your plating is perfect as always,” Menodora comments, approaching the kitchen. “And your donuts smell divine. And maple-y. Which means that you either made some specifically for me, or fortune just favored me today with how sales went. Either way, I’m grateful.”

She leans on the counter for a moment, something she really didn’t do. Hums for a second. The air still feels tense, but perhaps that was all her. Menodora did have a skill for icing people out without meaning to.

“How are you?” Menodora asks, after a moment. She could say, How are you since we last spoke, but she figures it might bring up poor memories. “Staying relatively warm? It feels like the entire town has begun to embrace the coming winter. Which I suppose is fine but I’ve always loved late fall most, I think. I’ll be sad to see it go.”

Cass Hamada

By the time Moon returned, Cass had found the nerves rising again. She hated to apologize for things, because so often it felt the apologies didn’t help but she felt worse if she didn’t try. It was a feedback loop she never seemed to win because it felt so hard to find the right thing to apologize for. 

She opened her mouth to say something, but Moon came back in and just sounded…normal. Which threw her off again. Hadn’t they argued? Didn’t they have things to talk about?

The kindness is almost as unsettling as the silence had been because she wasn’t ready for either of them and she isn’t sure what to think about any of it. Moon finally asked a question that felt like it could almost be an opening, but then she started talking about the weather. In other times, this conversation might have felt nice since Cass did like to hear what Moon was thinking about, but she didn’t know how to do any of that. 

So she gave up trying. 

“Of course I made your favorites. I know it’s not very much, but I said I wanted to apologize and I meant it. Moon, I feel terrible about arguing with you at the auction. You were trying to do something nice and fun, and the whole thing was for charity anyway it wasn’t really about me. I had just built it up to be this big thing, and then when it changed I didn’t handle it well. But I shouldn’t have taken that out on you. I’m sorry.” 

Menodora Butterfly-Johansen

Here's the part Menodora wasn't good at. Acknowledging the things that she did wrong. She had been an absentee friend, hadn't considered an outcome where Cassandra's feelings could have been hurt. Sure, Menodora meant it as a nice thing, but that didn't mean Cass would have to take it as one. Such a thing was presumptuous.

And besides, Moon felt horribly for how she had behaved as well. Cold and standoffish. Uncaring for her friend's feelings.

"You don't need to apologize," Menodora says, after a moment. But that's also... Not entirely validating. So she backtracks. "I appreciate the thought and I accept the apology, though I don't think there's anything you did wrong that needs to be forgiven."

Don't. Fuck. This. Up. 

"Honestly, I haven't been a good friend lately. I've been absent, I've been distant, and expecting to be welcomed back as if I hadn't even wished you a happy birthday in person, or at least over the phone."

Because I had started a reckless downward spiral, Cass. And I can't tell you that because if you knew, you'd hate me.

She smiles, somewhat wryly. Glancing at the tea and plated donuts. Touches to her neck for a moment, where she's glamored a mark or two. She can feel the soreness.

For a moment, she's convinced she can't do it. She can't be so earnest as Cassandra always was... But she deserves honesty. A genuine, equal apology… Even if Moon felt she was more in the wrong than Cassandra could have been.

"I don't think you're wrong to have wanted a date. That's what you'd clearly signed up for. And I shouldn't have treated you so poorly anyways, just for having feelings. If I had been a better friend, I'd have noticed how you were feeling. Or I would have tried to encourage you, not ice you out. I'm... Sorry.”

Cass Hamada

Cass has enough experience to know that there’s a lot of ways this conversation could go. It’s possible that Moon could decide to simply brush this off, but Cass knows that if she does it’ll leave an awkward wound that wouldn’t heal right because neither of them would forget it or be satisfied. Perhaps Moon would be mad all over again, which had also happened to Cass before, and nothing would get fixed. 

Instead, Moon chose the third path. They’re talking about it. Cass can’t help but feel a little trickle of relief because maybe, maybe, it meant they could get back on track. 

“It’s - sometimes my feelings get very big. Most of the time I can catch it and it isn’t so bad, or they’re feelings that people like so it isn’t a big deal. But sometimes they get big and they aren’t something nice, and then I try to find a place to be quiet because if I don’t I end up saying things I feel bad about later. Which sounds stupid and juvenile, but it’s the best way I can explain it. I’ve spent a lot of my life apologizing for what I said when I’m feeling like that, and I’ll definitely have to do it more.” 

She can feel the flickers of embarrassment echoing through her as she glanced down at the mug of tea she hadn’t really touched. 

“I guess I just…the only other dates I’ve been on have been with people I met at the cafe. They hadn’t really worked, which is fine, I know it happens. But I don’t really know…how to meet people. For dates. Or anything like that. So I saw the sign up, and I thought this might be a way to meet someone new. See if something would happen. And it wasn’t like it was just you, it was Franny and Reza as well, and I know you were all being really nice. You just happened to be the one that found me after, which meant you sort of got the worst of it.”

There’s more to ask about, more to understand in why Moon suddenly went so absent, but she wanted to finish this first before she got distracted. 

Menodora Butterfly-Johansen 

Cassandra, who always had a smile and big heart for everyone else. It's why Moon loved her so. When her positive feelings we're too big for her was when Menodora felt at ease around her. It wasn't overwhelming, it was welcome. Menodora supposes she'd never been around for the worse ones. The ones where Cass might feel cornered and alone and unable to express them. Or maybe it was, as she said, that she chose loneliness in order to mitigate her reactions. 

Menodora had intruded on that.

"Cassandra, you had reasonable feelings and concerns. It was a misunderstanding," Menodora says, trying to bridge this distance that she felt more acutely between them. It was mending, slowly, but there was just the feeling that loomed over the room.

As understanding as either of them tried to be, there was just this slight disconnect. Menodora couldn't mediate like she had many times in Mjaunie. She couldn't dismiss her friend, or tell her how to feel. That would just cause more trouble.

"If that's the worst of it, I'm not too concerned," Menodora says, not quite brushing it off. If only she could summon this sense when she spoke with Stella. "Hearing what you're saying, I understand why you were upset. I don't begrudge your emotions."

Menodora reaches over for a donut, allowing the syrupy glaze to stick to her fingers. She wasn't the sort to usually eat with her hands, but Cassandra's food was an exception.

She smiles, a genuine sort of tilt to it. 

"My dear, I fear that if you think this has caused a rift, you're mistaken. We're still friends after all."

She takes a bite. It tastes... All familiar. And maybe she might have cried for a moment, the imagining of their friendship being threatened too much to bear.

Menodora pauses after a bite. Thinks.

"I accept your apology, Cassandra. Do you accept mine?”

Cass Hamada

It wasn’t that Moon had intruded exactly. It was more that Cass had learned one way to cope, and despite the years that had passed, she’d never found another one that worked. Maybe it was simply because it was easier to hide instead of letting her emotions spill over onto customers or the boys. It didn’t help when she was in public or around too many other people, like at the auction, and then she ended up here. 

Her feelings didn’t feel reasonable to her, but it was kind of Moon to say so. 

Cass heard the words and was trying to focus on them and the kindness in them. But it’s when Moon reaches over and picks up one of the donuts, taking an actual bite, that she feels that tense guilty knot in her chest finally begin to unravel. After all, food was always how she communicated best. Eating the apology treats felt like she was actually accepting the apology. 

Smiling with relief, she said, “Of course! Apology fully accepted. I’ve missed just getting to hang out with you.” 

The words tumble out along with the relief, and there’s a little part of her that feels an anxious flicker at the possibility that it might be too much on top of everything. But the apology part of this had gone so well and so easily, honesty felt like the only thing she could do. 

She didn’t want there to be any rifts. She didn’t want Moon to go away. 

(Even if Cass knew that she would eventually. That she would have to because Moon was someone important and had a whole life elsewhere that Cass could only brush at the edges of. Someday Moon would leave and Cass would stay, and she couldn’t think about that. For now she didn’t want Moon to go away while they had a chance to still be friends.)

Menodora Butterfly-Johansen 

It's sweet of Cass to still want her around. Or maybe it was merciful. Moon didn't know, but she didn't want to ask. Cassandra seems so genuinely happy the two had made up, and Menodora feels the same. Even if Menodora had been more in the wrong for her poor reaction.

Menodora musters a light laugh, shaking her head for a moment.

"I've missed you, too, Cass. Even before the auction. I'm sorry I haven't been very communicative. It's just been a difficult few weeks, but none of that has been your fault, of course. I'm sorry I haven't replied to you." 

She finishes the first donut, takes her mug and the plate in each hand. "Sitting room? So we're not eating over the counter?"

It's more casual of Moon. She moves in a looser way than her more formal demeanor at Dinner Club. It's the way she feels more welcome to be herself -- at least more herself -- around her friend.

She'd miss Cass when she left, but nothing prohibited her from visiting now and again. Or calling her or writing her letters.

"You know who would like your donuts? River. He'd love them. I think I got my love of maple from him," she says, finding a place on the sofa and setting the plate and mug on the coffee table. "Stella probably does. Has she been in? No, don't tell me. She'd think I'm prying, and I don't want to do that. Especially after our last encounter.”

Cass Hamada

“Sure!” Cass didn’t mind eating over the counter because she’d done it through most of her life. It was the easiest way to snag the boys for a snack, or to visit with someone when they didn’t necessarily have a lot of time (or they were pretending they didn’t). But nothing said they had to!

They did most of their visiting in the living room anyway, so that made it feel something like normal. 

“Oh really? I’d try and send some to him, but I don’t know how well they’d travel.” She thought about mentioning that River had texted her saying he was worried, but she thought it might be part of those ‘hard weeks’ that Moon had mentioned that she did want to know more about. What else had happened that she didn’t know?

“And, it’s okay. Stella doesn’t come into the Lucky Cat, so no spying is possible or has to be avoided.” Which she had a feeling was on purpose. Although why still didn’t make sense to her. 

“But what’s made the last couple weeks so hard? Is there something I can help with? Or I can just listen. If you want. You don’t have to.” She wanted to take advantage of the opening while she was here, but she was nervous about Moon pulling away and going all stiff again. 

Menodora Butterfly-Johansen 

Freshly poured tea sits on her tongue, burning. And not-quite-ready. It's not steeper through but the water keeps her from having to talk. It allows her to gather herself and bury down all the feelings that are threatening to surface. 

The crisis has been averted. Moon’s friendliness is restored. So why is her spiral to Oswald the other night rearing its head? She doesn't fully remember it. She was drunk. She wants something she can't have, which she believes is a quick resolution to all her familial and interpersonal issues. It's more than that.

Of some kind.

“He might visit one day,” Menodora says, casually. Though she hopes he doesn't, somehow. Cruelly. In this guilty way where she'd give anything to hide away all the flaws in her life where she's come undone.

Cassandra can't think of her as anything less than acceptable because if she does, Moon might lose her.

It's not Moon pulling away and becoming Menodora out of coldness that Cass should fear. It's Moon turning in on herself and not knowing how to dig herself out. The truth of everything was so deep that Menodora can't help but want to hide her face, just for being the person she is.

“Oh. She should go. It's lovely,” Moon says, pleasantly. Trying to be cheerful again and keep up the friendly demeanor she's held to. Clung to.

She's trying to be casual again, the way she'd walked into this room. 

But she and Oswald had played cards here. Moon had taken three shots and gotten drunk here. Moon had– given up here. Even before the cards and shots and awkward conversations over her coffee table. She'd given up the life she thought she could have because she doesn't deserve it and she's not worth it. A countess… how could she be that?

What's made the last weeks so hard?

If only I could tell you, Cassandra? You'd learn and leave and I cannot be alone anymore. I don't know who I'd be.  

“I don't think you can help, Cassandra,” Moon says, approximating warmth in her tone. “It's kind of you to offer. River and I just haven't been on the best of terms.” (River probably wants to leave his cold-hearted wife by now. This absence, he knows already, the things she's done. He could feel some cosmic shift. Those texts that might read ‘can we talk’ is him trying to end it. And Menodora can't do it. She can't–) “I think I made him cross when I visited.”

Which is really a version of ‘I know I did. I know he despises me and could never love me for what an awful mother I am and how I've hurt him and will continue to hurt him. I'm a runaway train, wrecking in slow motion in an empty clearing. No one will witness the carnage.

It will be beautiful one day. Things will grow in the remains. Stella might ascend and be twice the person I was. Blooming beautifully among people who would adore her for who she is. She’ll never be like me, a fraud who held so dearly to the illusion of who I thought I could be but never quite was. As stubborn as she is, she knows herself.

She inherited my curiosity. But she'll know how to use it far more than I ever neglected it.’

This isn't the point …

“I'm not… doing well,” she admits, suddenly feeling a similar wave of sick dizziness like the one she felt at Tófi’s. After she'd stabbed him. After he verbally berated her for everything she was wrong for.

She's dizzy, but she's already sitting, so it's not too bad.

If Moon fainted, at least she'd be able to warn Cass beforehand. She may not give the details, but it would give Cass that out of their friendship if needed. 

Gods, Moon hates herself.

Her voice turns distant and dreamy, as if she's talking about herself without being herself.

“I don't mean to burden you with it, so maybe it's best if you leave,” Moon says after a moment. Confusion is clouding her face. She feels unwell. “Not to sound rude or uninviting to you, ever, Cassandra. I'm… sorry?”

Cass Hamada

“Oh really? Well that would be wonderful! I’d like to meet him.” And she would! She enjoyed all of Moon’s stories about River, even if it wasn’t very many, and she thought they’d get along well. Plus he’d been very nice over text, so he was probably nice in person.

She thought it must be hard to be over in Mjuanie while his family was here, even if they did have responsibilities and people to look after and things that were important.

Then again, she’d sold her cafe and her home rather than risk losing Hiro. Her perspective was probably skewed.

At Moon’s comment about Stella, she shrugged. “I can’t make her come in, and not everyone likes my food. There's a lot of options in town, its okay.”

But it’s almost as if Cass can feel the air shift with her offer as Moon goes silent and starts to struggle. Which is something Cass knows well - better than most people think considering what they saw of her bright chatty exterior and her open smile.

After all, Hiro had always been a moody boy. He’d lost his parents so young. He was smarter than all his peers and struggled to connect with his classmates when he was so much younger. His brain worked at a million miles an hour, and it wasn’t always kind when it did so. Then the accident took his depression to new heights so that some days it was all she could do to encourage him to leave bed. 

She knew how to sit with pain she couldn’t help and advice she couldn’t give. She’d been practicing that skill for a long time.

So she waited. She waited as Moon made her small confessions which built larger into the kind of statement Cass would only listen to if it was less of a question and more of a need.

“I’d rather stay here. It’s okay if I can’t help, but you aren’t a burden to me. I can still listen. I’d like to listen.”

Menodora Butterfly-Johansen

It’s a sweet thought, Cassandra and River meeting. She imagines they’d get on so well. River was good with everyone, though. And who couldn’t love Cassandra? “I don’t know exactly when he’d be able to visit, though,” Menodora says after a moment, not wanting to get Cass’s hopes up. “He’s mentioned it a few times, though. I'll… have to ask him again.”

She won’t be asking. She might, sometime… but not now. Not right now…

Cassandra says that she’d rather stay, and Moon can’t help but look up. A bit surprised. First Oswald, now Cassandra.

“You know, Cass,” Moon says after a pause, examining the situation, “when someone says ‘maybe it’s best you leave,’ you’re supposed to take advantage of the social nicety and go.” But there’s a softer, weak smile lined in those words… “I worry what would happen if everyone were as nice as you, Cassandra.”

Menodora exhales, wondering what she can say. What’s happened since the two of them talked? Things with Tófi, things with Stella. Even though Menodora stayed with Cass the night Menodora had lost her keys at the carnival, she hadn’t spiraled out about how things were with Stella. They hadn’t felt that dire yet. Or, rather, Moon hadn’t wanted to share. All those thoughts were raw and still processing.

Now she was having an affair with her neighbor and barely leaving the house and barely answering anyone’s calls or texts. Her designated ‘outside time’ was a sunrise run along Lakeside, and sometimes a sunset walk near the campus.

What had become of her lately?

Moon exhales a short laugh, glancing a bit off into the room. “I don’t even know where to start, Cass. Or what to say. I don’t know what there is to listen to. It’s just been a hard few weeks.”

Cass Hamada

Cass tilted her head at Moon’s statement, her smile just as soft. “Social niceties like that don’t apply to friends. Or maybe I’ve just been too bad at them so I gave up on them a long time ago.” 

Shifting closer, she takes Moon’s hand and gives it a small squeeze. “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to. We can talk about something else or just watch a movie and eat donuts until I have to get back to the cafe for the dinner rush. If you just want to talk about whatever you’re thinking, it doesn’t have to make sense either because I can just listen.” 

Because there was a difference between ‘don’t know where to start’ and ‘nothing there’. Some of Moon’s inner glow had faded, and that told her that something had happened. Even if it was too much of something to know what the beginning was. 

“I know for me, sometimes I have to be alone a little bit. My feelings get big and messy in the first moment, and the things I say in that first moment aren’t always the version of me I like. It’s the second moment and the third when I can think a little bit more past the feeling that usually feels more right for the person I try to be. So when something happens and I say that I need air or I need a minute, that’s the times that being alone is helpful.” 

“But sometimes I say that I want to be alone when I really don’t. I just think I should be. And if that’s what’s happening for you then I don’t really want to leave you alone. But I can just be here too. Okay?” 

Menodora Butterfly-Johansen

Moon shakes her head. Embarrassed. Chiding herself for what was happening. Menodora shouldn’t need other people, that wasn’t how this was supposed to work. And yet, more often than not lately it seemed that she couldn’t stand the idea of being alone.

Cassandra takes Moon’s hand and she hates to admit that she almost cries. What on earth was wrong with her?

It takes a moment to gather some semblance of thought. Of explanation. She winces.

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it,” Menodora admits, quietly, “it’s that I don’t know how to talk about it.” There’s a pained, strained smile there. This disbelief in herself that she’s even trying to muster some explanation.

She listens as Cass explains her own experiences and her thoughts on being alone. It resonates with Moon in a way she wasn’t expecting. There are times Moon wants to be alone with her thoughts, and times where she forces herself to be. There are times when she convinces herself that all she needs is more time to think of a solution and everything will be better. If she can bully any irrationality into submission she would be fine.

Moon takes a deep inhale. Lets out a half laugh on the exhale… and pulls Cass closer.

She’s not even sure why she does it in the moment… but she does. She pulls Cass in for a hug and maybe she should have asked first but something about everything that was threatening to collapse and a hug just… felt right.

It’s nice. There’s a comfort to it and she doesn’t know why but everything just felt better with Cass here. There were very few people that Moon felt that she could drop pretense around. Even around Cass, to a degree, she still kept up some guard.

It’s different, too. Cass has felt different from the beginning. There was something so deeply earnest and effortlessly nice about her. There was something so kind about her that Moon had been surprised by the honesty of it…

“I was so worried,” Moon says softly, hiding her face with the embrace, “that I was going to push you away. I felt myself building up that wall when we were talking after the auction and I just couldn’t stand what I was doing to you. I’m really sorry, Cassandra.” She inhales, trying to breathe life back into herself… Gods… “I don’t ever want to treat you that coldly again, I’m so so sorry.”

Cass Hamada

Cass liked hugs. At her core, she liked to hold people, to connect with them, and have that little piece of physical comfort. It was an impulse she suppressed most of the time these days because Hiro was so sensitive and most of her friends here were so reserved. But she liked hugs. She would never say no to a hug. 

More than that, it feels like Moon needs this hug. Cass didn’t hesitate to lean in, wrapping her arms around her friend and holding her tightly enough that maybe she can help hold together all the different pieces of Moon. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m tougher than that to push away, promise,” she said softly, rubbing Moon’s back as she did so. 

Had it hurt in the moment? Of course. But Cass had been an exposed nerve, all feelings and sensitivity with no shields at all. If she’d been younger, that was all it would take to send her running for the hills never to be seen again because she’d be convinced that was all it took to break the things that mattered. Her emotions had felt so fragile, she’d assumed everything in her life was equally breakable and vulnerable. Time and proper help for her adhd had helped with that. 

It didn’t mean it had gone away. But it meant she was better at questioning those first thoughts and following it up with her second and third ones than she’d been in her twenties. 

“This was only a donut level apology emergency. We haven’t made it up to swiss rolls or entremets or chocolate souffle yet. There’s layers here.” She’s not trying to make light of Moon’s emotions, but she can’t resist a little bit of lightness. 

This was one argument after all. They would be fine.

Menodora Butterfly-Johansen

Menodora lets out a slight laugh, the feeling reverberating through the hug. It didn’t feel like they would be fine, but that’s Menodora’s fear whispering in her mind. How much longer would she allow fear and paranoia and doubt to control her? As long as they lingered, she would suppose. Would, if she could think more clearly about it. If she was more conscious of what they truly were.

To Moon, these emotions were a nebulous, overwhelming negativity. They were shaped like fear, but not entirely right. Trepidation? Her subconscious isn’t sure. All her subconscious knows is that this is a very good hug and is much needed for her spiraling psyche.

“So what crisis level is my tiramisu?” Menodora asks, breaking the hug. She feels flighty and distracted, but it’s likely her inclination to flee running amok in her mind. Menodora was more of a fighter by force, not choice. If given the option, or opposition, Menodora was likely to seek escape more than anything.

Clearly.

So, back to the question – “But what’s made the last couple weeks so hard?”

“We haven’t been speaking,” Menodora admits after another short silence. “River and I. Actually, I’ve barely been speaking to anyone.” Which is another hard admission. It’s why she hasn’t been answering Cassandra’s texts. It’s why she dropped off Cassandra’s birthday gift basket at The Lucky Cat without notice or ceremony, then ran before Cass could spot her or stop her. She feels that wretched ache in her, a fear of judgment. A fear of Cass looking at her differently for anything she says. “We haven’t agreed on much of anything lately and it’s taken a bit of a toll. Actually, besides sorting out the politics of everything, we did little more than argue while I was back in Mjaunie.” A weak laugh of an exhale. She stares into her tea mug, at the way the surface of it ripples ever so slightly. It’s rarely ever perfectly still here. She’s glad she’d done some mending magic to the coffee table. It had taken gathering a few reagents while out on a run, but it prevented questions about the previously scorched state of it. As if to divert slightly, to be self-deprecating as a distraction, she gives a pained half-shrug. A not-so-caring, light-toned, “I’ve been pitifully reclusive lately.”

Cass Hamada

“I’d say fairly high, but we’re not to croquembouche level.” She nodded like this was any kind of serious scale and not something completely ridiculous to release some of the pressure from before. (Although it would take something pretty drastic for her to decide that a croquembouche was the reasonable response for that. The transport of that alone would be monumental.)

But she felt that attempt at lightness fade as Moon finally began to speak about what had been going on. 

It was the sort of thing she wished she had good advice for. That she was the kind of person who’d had other relationships she could point to in order to give Moon some hope or some strategies or something that would help make it better. But considering her own pitiful relationship history, she can’t speak at all to what it’s like to be married. 

Instead, she just scooches a little closer to wrap one arm around Moon’s waist and give her a one armed hug as they sat together and she let the words settle into the airs around them. 

“It’s surprisingly easy to stop talking to people,” she said softly. That she did know all too well. “I’m sorry that you and River are having a hard time reaching each other.” 

Menodora Butterfly-Johansen

This was as honest as Moon would be able to get. The trouble with her and River, the trouble with her and Stella. She couldn’t talk about Oswald. She couldn’t talk about these distressing feelings that are weighing her down because she doesn’t want to say anything that would – maybe – scare Cass.

Or worry about her too much.

Relationship drama was normal. Having an affair? That wasn’t.

And, besides. How insensitive would it be to explain to Cass her expanded relationship trouble when Cass herself expressed her feelings about her dating life?

Moon leans into Cass’s shoulder as Cass hugs her. It’s definitely welcome, even if feels a bit bad to have Cass’s sympathy this way. It didn’t feel earned.

But we’re not having a hard time reaching each other, Moon might have said. He’s reaching me, I just choose not to hear him.

“It’ll be okay,” Moon says, trying to shake off the discomfort. “I mean it, we’ll be fine.” That’s all the stray emotion she will allow herself… at least right now. Something she’s not allowing: Herself to completely fall apart in front of Cass.

“We don’t have to dwell on it. Thank you for listening, but really, I should be a big girl and figure it out.” She smiles at Cass, breaking the hug by reaching for the maple donut again. Finishing it off because it really was a comfort to her. “It’s good to see you. I did miss you. Like you said, it’s surprisingly easy to stop talking to people. I regret that you fell victim to that, too.”

Cass Hamada

Cass nodded and gave Moon a small squeeze at the words. She hoped it would be okay. She wanted it to be okay. It seemed to her like they both had enough hard things to deal with, and they both deserved something good.

“Nothing says I can’t listen while you’re being a big girl and figuring it out.”

But she takes the signal and shifts so there’s a bit more of a normal space between them on the couch again. She also picks up one of the donuts (because they are some of her favorites and she can use the sugar herself) and takes a large bite.

“It’s okay. We’ll both have to work on that. Next time you stop responding to my text messages, I promise to be much more annoying about banging on your door.”