[This whole festival thing is, mmm, nice, but farming? Bah. Lalli tried it; he even learned (most of) the proper steps, thanks to Loren, but he'd much rather leave all of that mess to the people who seem to actually enjoy it. He's certain that Emil feels the same way! For different reasons, of course—like, Emil probably just hates getting dirty—but... well, when Lalli has a petty opinion about something, Emil is usually right there with him.
Individual reasoning aside, though, it's just a simple fact the time spent sweating in a field could always be put to better use. Their last Craft lesson was some time ago now, after all, and while Emil was very proud of the one (1) spell he learned—ah, there's so much more to teach? So much more for Emil's empathetic, entirely too open brain to learn, which is why Lalli forgoes lunch in order to search for this magically inept Swede. It doesn't take him long at all, thanks to that nifty mental link of theirs, but wherever Emil is, whatever Emil's doing, when Lalli spots him from some distance away—ah?
...Ah. It's a good thing that Lalli has, like, a few seconds to compose himself, but that doesn't stop him from giving his friend a strange look when he finally approaches. This is indeed his favorite boy, and yet:]
You look... weird.
[Hello, but also: Emil, your HAIR! Your beautiful golden HAIR!]
[Farming is awful, Emil has decided. An intimidating old man bullied him about doing magic? He's past all this, emotionally, spiritually, you name it. But he's also been glared at if not outright threatened every time he tries to sneak off or not show up at all, so he is... still here.
Digging. Putting seeds in the ground. Digging more. Right now he's elected to take a water break, which may be his third in an hour, but the young landen passing out water in this area just rolls her eyes and moves on from him instead of lecturing him, mercifully.
So, here he is: tired (ugh), sweaty (worse), considering his chances if he tries to escape Farmville one last time... but oh! Lalli is here!! And immediately saying he looks weird, wow, okay.]
What? [What did he— oh. He reaches up to touch his hair, like, maybe he looks weird because he's never really tied his hair back before and he could have done it crooked? Perhaps?] I'm warm. And it was getting in my eyes.
[Sure, Emil. Keep thinking that Lalli is eyeing that updo because it's crooked; after all, it's not like Lalli can explain why this new look is, um, throwing him off. He's not the type to notice such things? He's especially not the type to care about such things, and yet there's just... something about it...
Well! It's something to think about later, perhaps, but for now—Craft. Craft, Craft, Craft, which is somehow so much easier for him to understand than all of... this.]
...Aha.
[He tears his eyes away from that (sad?) hair, offering up a weak little shrug as he shoves these weird thoughts right out of his mind. Emil can wear his hair however he likes; it's not like it affects him, so hey, look at how little he cares! Yeah!]
Why are you here? It's warm and boring. [And dirty, but whatever.] Come back with me.
[...Should he offer his hand? After a second's worth of consideration, he will indeed offer his hand.]
[He's here because of guilt... how many children-to-preteen landens have to look at him imploringly before he feels obligated to dig anther hole? It barely takes one. He's so weak to babies.]
Oh— well yes, but I'm sort of on the clock...
[Orrr something like that. Still, it barely takes him a second before he looks over his shoulder to see if that landen girl is coming back around- mercifully, she is not- and that more or less makes his mind up for him. He finishes what's left of his water and reaches out to take Lalli's hand. It took no effort at all.
He's just extra weak to Lalli, that's all. Fatal flaw: best friend. Please, spirit him away before someone catches him abandoning his shovel.]
How come no one is following you around, making you dig holes?
[Stupid Emil! This isn't a real job, which is why Lalli sees absolutely nothing wrong about gripping that hand and tugging his friend away from all of this hustle and bustle. Will any landens stop them? No, because Lalli a) avoids any and all eye contact with strangers on principle and b) is very, very good at quickly weaving through large crowds of people. Suck it, losers.]
Someone did, but only for the first day. Then they left me alone.
[Because he... was terrible. And quiet. And, you know, weird, but like Lalli cares; he's just happy that he doesn't have to sit in a field and listen to people sing the Queen's strange song over and over again.
Anyway, as Lalli pulls Emil down an alleyway that he's probably-definitely going to hate—]
[Oop, there they go. Emil looks over his shoulder one last time before the whole of his attention goes back to Lalli; yes yes, he's here, please do not pull his arm out of its socket zooming through crowds like this. They're not being chased.]
Hmm, I guess. They needed help, though.
[They still do, but he's been thoroughly dragged away to a gross alleyway that his empathy sensor can calm down for ten minutes. Now then, ew—]
[Lalli isn't the least bit surprised to hear that Emil's empathy once again landed him in a real mess, but—ah, this stupid boy! This beautiful idiot. Of course that question earns him a mild Look.]
It's faster.
[And it really, truly is? Just skirt around some garbage with him, Emil... leap over these gross, green (why?) puddles, because after a few more twists and turns—voilà! They're back on one of the main roads, and clearly much closer to home than they would be if they'd stuck to the traditional route. Now they can slow down a bit, both because Emil probably needs a short breather and because Lalli has to look smug for all of, like, three seconds.]
See?
[Praise Him. Love Him. ...And follow him back to the Queen's residence.]
[This is the worst shorcut Lalli has ever dragged him down, ever, in history. He grumbles and complains about at least seventy percent of it, looking grim and exhausted after having to jump over so many puddles when they're finally through. That kind of spoils the wonder of suddenly knowing where he is again, but-]
...Oh. I don't know how you remember all of these paths.
[Impressed level: above average. Give him a minute to Breathe, then he can move again. This jumping diversion has made him really appreciate being, yet again, sweaty and gross, so the first thing he says when they get back is:]
I need to not be in these filthy clothes.
[Stop him before he spends all afternoon primping and not doing magic.]
[He remembers them all because he's a very, very good scout! The best, actually, so if he looks a tad smug as he leads Emil back to their room... well, surely it's fine. He did save Emil from an afternoon spent digging in the dirt.
Anyway, boy, those clothes... are fine? Like, Lalli casts a quick look back over his shoulder as he heads to the bed, just to double-check the state of things, before he says:]
...They're not that dirty. [In Lalli's opinion, anyway.] You don't need to change? Not for Craft.
[Because that's totally what this is about, dummy! Join him on the bed, which he drops down on just like he did last time. This is clearly The Spot to learn, so just don't, uh... don't worry about all of the dirt that may or may not wind up on the sheets...]
[Yes yes, he's wonderful and smart and Emil would be lost without him, possibly literally. This does not make Lalli's opinions on what is and is not dirty suddenly count; Lalli's opinions on this subject are actually the worst, Emil knows, and he doesn't want to get dirt on his bed and oh okay there goes Lalli anyway, great.
He makes a face, but it's mostly down at his sleeves. If he's going to be stared at until he sits down for magic time, he will at least not have to look at his dirt-smudged sleeves... He's rolling them up, that's all this is for. Why weren't they before? He's stupid, that's why.]
At least take off your shoes. What kind are we doing today?
[I said a tad smug, not insufferably smug. Damn! But who cares about that, because, um? Um?? On the one hand, Lalli has almost certainly seen Emil's forearms before; there's nothing wild about exposing them like this, but on the other hand... well. There is, against all odds, something interesting about watching Emil do this totally normal thing, and Lalli finds himself silently watching him roll up that first sleeve. Maybe it's because Emil's fingers are making such quick work of it, or maybe it's because Emil's arm is so very different from his, or...
Mmph. Even his oblivious self realizes that he's let that question go unanswered for too long because he's doing a weird thing, which is why he shifts his attention down to his (not-so-gross) boots. He could argue about taking them off! He could!! But he's not.]
...Shields. [A BEAT.] Protecting your mind from... other people.
[Vampires, maybe? Lalli doesn't know what kind of Jewel that weirdo has.]
[Fortunately, Lalli is just weird enough on his own that Emil doesn't register this new, additional weird pausing as something new that he has to point out or question. He's busy taking his own shoes off, anyway, which is a much less exciting thing to witness. Then, and only then, will he join this dirtnasty boy on the bed. Hi.]
Oh, alright, [he says, and he tries his damnedest not to make it sound like he means "that's actually useful unlike most of these magic things." He's here, he's ready for magic school.
Speaking of, actually-] Some old man tried to tell me how to do spells for all that gardening? He was terrible at it and I didn't understand a thing.
[As Lalli focuses very, very intently on kicking his last shoe across the room, of course he's pleased to hear that this mystery person was an awful teacher? Like, yes, he definitely feels a rush of pride when he thinks about being the only person who's managed to make any sort of headway with this magically inept boy, but... it's also another reminder that Emil sucks at this Craft business. He remembers just how much effort it took to teach Emil that simple heating spell last time; he certainly has his work cut out for him today.
But it's fine! He's fine! This is all fine, especially when Lalli looks back Emil's way and makes sure to keep his eyes focused on everything above the shoulders. ...Which means he has to look at this new hairstyle again, actually, and that's just. Bleh.]
Pfh. Gardening spells sound stupid, anyway.
[Lalli? Petty? Nah. He settles back against the wall, eyes finally drifting down to rest on Emil's face.]
Shields are better. You need to keep people out. [And things. Can't forget the things.] Do you remember practicing how to focus your mind? Back when...
[He shrugs, letting that trail off, because... well, Emil, you know.]
[Why! Is he kicking his shoes! Does no one value a tidy room!! Emil watches this with vague displeasure, knowing he will have to put those in a corner of their own himself later, before he trips on a shoe and dies... Why does this happen to him? He, Emil Västerström, is a good person who does not deserve this.
Anyway. The magic, and the boy. He looks back at Lalli, this time making a new face about keeping people out. He agrees! That's why he makes a face, remembering the incident— here and at home. One of those makes him more uncomfortable than the other, and of course it's the one Lalli is not quite bringing up now. Sure, they almost died a thousand times, but he can't think of anything that's terrified him quite as much as Lalli going comatose right in front of him and then hundreds of monsters trying to mind-murder him.
It's the worst! But here they're safe- more or less- and Lalli is just fine, and they can think about magic shields instead of bad memories.]
Hmm. You told me to focus on you. [Should he, uh, continue to employ this method when Lalli isn't his passenger, so to speak...?] Am I going to have to memorize your snake stories?
[ha ha jokes but really, how gay should he be about this??]
[Oh, hardy-har-har, Emil. Very funny, even though Lalli's brow wrinkles for the briefest of moments. Huh? What?]
...No?
[He's, like, ninety-nine percent sure that Lalli Tales won't help Emil out here, so take this seriously, please? But... well, at least the memories of that time are obviously fresh. Not that he expected them to have faded after such a relatively short amount of time; not that he ever expects them to fade, after everything they went though, but it's good—for both of them—that he probably doesn't need to go back over the absolute basics. This gives him, mmm, a solid sort of foundation to (hopefully) build upon.
So... a shield. A mental shield, which is both similar to and different from his basic dreamscape defense. He can totally use his actual words to explain this, which is why he straightens up the slightest bit. Lalli Hotakainen, PhD.]
You have to focus on... yourself. On the part of you that you want to protect. You build—hn. [No, that isn't the right word to use? Give him a second here to think back on what's practically second nature to him at this point, please, before he tries again.] You take magic, and you... push—
[Ah, but that still isn't correct. Words, Emil! Words are hard, especially when Lalli has to use them to explain a tricky magical concept; it's why he sinks back down, shoulders pulling inward, before he sums up that effort of his with a simple:]
Mrh. [Okay, time to a) switch over to telepathy and b) consider skipping the initial explanation altogether.] I can show you again, but this has to be stronger. The shield is... inside? In my mind? All of it is there, and you... have to be there, too. Almost.
["This" being the mental link of theirs, through which he sends a hesitant little buzz.]
[He is actually completely serious about Lalli being his go-to point for precision focusing, thanks. That's just another best friend thing, obviously— thinking solely about your best friend to stay calm and not die.
Still, it seems like this PhDweeb is having some trouble getting to the point, here... Emil doesn't interrupt; he shifts to sit up by the headboard and face Lalli at an angle, in the meantime, while Lalli does his best. Don't worry; this is what everything about magic is like, to Emil. This confusion exactly.
He's wondering if he should say something when their mental link, uh, comes to life again, so that answers that.]
Oh, um— [aha] Okay? That did work last time, so...
[So clearly, it should work again! As long as Lalli takes point on this, because Emil is, as discussed, terrible with the details. How is he supposed to be there, but only almost? What does that mean?]
Like before? [Is he going to pass out?? This thought, that he has to somehow reinforce this link into Lalli's mind without, like, fucking up in real life is pretty intimidating! He's very much uncertain about it and it shows on his face, but he still holds his hand out to Lalli anyway. If he screws up, Lalli will know how to magically scoop him up and dump him back where he should be.
Surely. He figured it out the other time. Holding his hand is just for moral support.] Show me, then.
[Is this Mental Link Experience similar to the first? In a way, but it's also more. Last time, their minds just brushed against one another; this time, it's more like their minds will be... temporarily overlapping. Last time, most of Lalli's walls were up; this time, many of Lalli's walls have to come down. To sum it all up: even though Lalli is generally confident in his own abilities, the idea of someone coming so close is rather nerve-racking, but he knows that it's necessary. Absolutely necessary, and so—a simple nod, then, before Lalli takes hold of that hand. For Emil's benefit! Obviously, although maybe tightly lacing their fingers together helps him, too. A bit.
Or maybe more than a bit, because the warmth of Emil's skin serves as a sort of anchor; it's something to kind-of-sort-of remind him where he is while he, you know, reaches out for Emil's now-familiar mind—easy!—and traces the connection back to his own. There's a metaphorical door there, something that he needs to nudge open in order to let even more things cross this link of theirs, but—hey, it's a difficult thing to figure out on the fly? He's not sure how much pressure to place on this weak point, which is why that nudge is more like a surprisingly strong push that sends that door flying wiiiiiiiiide open.
It's not... bad. It's not even overwhelming, honestly; it's just that all of Lalli's surface-level thoughts are suddenly Emil's surface-level thoughts, too. He's hungry! He would very much like a nap before dinner. He can still feel Emil's hand in his, and he should... oh, wait, this connection can't drain too much magic; everything might take a while. Is Emil paying attention? Emil needs to be paying attention. ...Aha. So he is paying attention, but—mmnh, that weird hair. Why would he wear it up like that? It's so much better when it's down... only sleeves are better when they're up...
Just... brief, stupid, unimportant things that continuously loop back around, but Lalli doesn't seem to register them; he barely registers whatever Emil's emotional response to everything is, because his main focus is clearly... well, methodically creating a mental shield. Drawing magic up and into his mind; directing it all to a single point; stemming the tide; thinking about how he wants to keep everything and everyone out; shaping it into a sort of bubble that he pushes outward to surround his... conscious self, which is something that he just feels. It's no wonder he couldn't find the proper words? This is, without a doubt, a complicated Thing that is best experienced firsthand.
But once that (purposely weak) shield is up—goodbye, surface-level thoughts. Goodbye, emotion-sharing. Goodbye, telepathy. They're separated once more, and it is... strange.]
Puh.
[A quiet huff, because Lalli is Just Like That, before he reaches up to scrub his face with his free hand. He feels oddly exposed for no real reason at all, but, like, he doesn't even think about pulling his other hand away. He's going to have to do this Thing again and again... he can sense it... Emil's hand, give him strength...]
[Suffice to say, this is probably the strangest thing they've ever done, from Emil's perspective. Yeah, objectively the body-sharing thing was weirder, but that wasn't on purpose, so it's... This is different? This is a lot of Lalli thoughts suddenly bouncing around his own, which he is immediately distracted by. He'll pay attention to the magic part, he will, but how is he supposed to not poke around these surface-level thoughts when they flood into his own?
Some of these are much more interesting than the rest, mostly because they are about him and he is very invested in Other People's Thoughts about himself, especially Lalli's. He's paying attention! His hair isn't weird! It's— ah, it's think-about-that-later, when Lalli isn't doing this magic thing he's supposed to pay attention to.
He... sort of understands the concept here. Use magic to build another bubble kind of thing, but this time in the mind instead of around a rock- and not really there, intangible- he can feel(?) what Lalli is doing and comprehend it, but that's about where he stops. It is a very real problem, he knows, that his own mind is so weirdly accessible to things that want to hurt him or have no respect for his privacy, but-!
But like, couldn't he just deck anyone and everyone who tries to do that head stuff to him again? He will find a gun if it turns out there are psychic monsters in this world, too.
And then all of a sudden the wave of other thoughts is gone. Lalli is gone, in just the one sense, which is a very odd feeling to suddenly have after they've been vaguely mentally aware of each other for a decently long while now. Emil blinks, looks down at their hands and then over at Lalli, frowning... and then musters all of the magic ability he has in him to more or less knock on that shield. Donking his metaphorical face into the metaphorical glass sliding door, here.
Of course this is the thing he can do without thinking about it too much: bang on the window. Hello??]
Hmm, I guess? Let me try.
[He'll do his best? He closes his eyes for this, to Focus, and if Lalli wants to pore over Emil's surface thoughts this time, they're mostly about wanting to just do this and get it done, to keep the Creeps away... and wanting to change his goddamn dirt clothes... There is, notably, no abrupt cutoff of free reign access to Emil's mind. Hmm.]
Okay! Do... something.
[Come AT this brain!! He does not have a shield. What he does have is, possibly infuriatingly, the mental equivalent of getting hit in the face, something that is at least tempered by how he's just not good at Craft. Consider: he just does this to everyone else instead.]
[Emil, don't... knock against his shield like that? It's somewhat uncomfortable, but above all else, it's rude; the only reason Lalli doesn't, like, immediately fire something back Emil's way is because 1) it's probably a good thing for Emil to feel how a shield should feel and 2) it's not like Emil's attempt to break in is actually effective. Lalli's shield is far, far weaker than it should be, but it's still there, blocking his everything from seeping into Emil's mind.
But he does, of course, shoot Emil a Look right as Emil closes his eyes. This incredibly impatient boy! It's a wonder that Lalli puts up with him, really, especially because just watching Emil's face—while trying very, very hard not to think about his hair—is enough to tell Lalli that Emil isn't... doing this in the proper manner? He's not screwing his face up as he desperately tries to get this thing down; he looks more or less, mmm, normal, which is a sign that he's either grasped this tricky concept far faster than he has any right to, or that he's doing something entirely different and/or entirely wrong.
...Hmph. It's not a thing that Lalli appreciates, which is why it should be no surprise that he stares back at Emil for a moment before (mentally) coming for him far harder than he needs to. He wants... to pop whatever Emil has constructed as quickly as possible, you know? Just to prove a point, but—well. Charging in like that means that he's wholly unprepared for that psychic punch; it lands squarely on his metaphorical face, and that, plus Lalli's sense of shock, breaks Lalli's already weak shield into a million imaginary pieces.]
Hn—
[...Ow? Ow, ow, ow. Lalli immediately pulls away, hand instinctively going to his face even though it was, um, entirely in his head. But the most important thing here... is that all of Lalli's emotions, Lalli's thoughts, once again slam into Emil's stupid brain. Surprise! A dull pain? Mild annoyance that is quickly turning into something... more intense, but it's somewhat tempered by the barely there feeling of approval. Emil got him? Emil got him...
[Aha— he wasn't actually sure that was going to work until the last moment, so- sorry, genuinely sorry about that punch in the mind-face, but also he did something. This is actual progress! Progress marked by Lalli being, ah, reasonably annoyed at him, the feeling of which sure is coming back...
Oops!!]
Sorry! I didn't think it was going to work!
[But in Emil's defense, Lalli came at him like a truck for no reason at all, which was very petty and rude. On some level, he deserves getting punched in the mental nose... Still: woops.]
You didn't have to do it like that. Let me see.
[Like... there isn't anything to see after a mental punch, but if Lalli is going to be a huge baby and hide his face and get all mad about this, Emil will grumble at him until he lets him Look. Come on, boy... Give him those points for getting a good hit in, he caught that!!, and get over it.]
[He did have to do it like that! It's what Emil deserved!! Or: Lalli stubbornly—childishly—refuses to consider that he did something wrong, because his shield wasn't the only intangible thing that took a hit there. Being caught off guard by a cheap trick...
Well, Emil should be ashamed of himself, in Lalli's opinion, and yet he still feels feels a twinge of... embarrassment? When he finally lowers his hand just enough to sharply look over Emil's way? Which is a strange thing indeed, considering that he's the one who's going to have a mild headache for the rest of the day, but—mmph. Expression: annoyed. Mood: (mostly) annoyed. Thoughts: currently oscillating between vague, "But I want Emil to think that I'm the Best"-type things and "This stupid, stupid Swede!"]
Mrr...
[He's fine, of course, but he still takes his sweet time pulling that hand away from the bottom half of his face. Just to show that he didn't appreciate that, you see! Just to prove a point that isn't really a point at all, because as long as they're like this, his quietest thoughts are going to keep on betraying him.]
That won't work! [Another flash of embarrassment, because, well—] Not... all of the time. You didn't even try.
[To... make a shield, you stupid, dumb boy! With your... stupid, dumb hair, which Lalli's eyes briefly flick over to when looking at Emil's face is Too Much. He's rarely self-conscious; the result of this tiiiiiny slip-up is really throwing him for a loop, so why not direct that bit of frustration to a thing that CLEARLY deserves it!!!]
[This boy? This picky, whiny boy. Emil gives him a look, skeptical of this unjust criticism; he did it! He got Lalli fair and square! Just because a) he got him, and b) he did something Lalli wasn't asking him to do doesn't mean it doesn't count.
He crosses his arms huffily, but still leans a little closer to peer at Lalli's face. He looks fine! Stop acting like one hit is the end of the world!]
I did fine. You know I'm not like you! I can't do all of those fancy things like it's nothing, so I improvised.
[That's what he's calling it now: improvising. Not sucker-punching at all. Now this is... odd, kind of, with Lalli complaining out loud and continuing to circle back to those more frazzled, almost softer thoughts in their mental link. Does he... does he know he's doing that? It seems like he doesn't know he's doing that.
Hmm! He sits back with a sigh, not annoyed, but more waiting it out before he gets annoyed. And maybe a little waiting for Lalli to calm down, too... They shouldn't argue about this, buuut he's already apologized and he's not going to do it again. Hmph.
[Listen, it's hard to process both strong (and somewhat surprising?) emotions and every tiny, insignificant thought that just so happens to float to the surface. Something's gotta give, which means that Lalli obviously decides to go with... being a petty child. It's practically second nature for him!
So does he lean away when Emil leans in? Yes. Does he put more space between them when Emil finally settles back? No, but he considers it, because this lesson isn't—wasn't?—about improvisation; this lesson is—was?—all about Emil learning to create a simple mental shield, all so that he can, you know, protect himself when Lalli isn't around... when a better-prepared mental shield won't just shatter after one hit...
...But explaining that is, like, nigh impossible at this point in time, especially after Emil brings up his ridiculous hair. No, Lalli isn't about to look back over at it, but there's a clear do-not-like vibe that flickers across this mental link of theirs. Like Lalli just took a bite of something and did not enjoy it.]
It was stupid? It won't work all of the time, [he sullenly repeats, really trying to drive that point him, before he pauses for all of a second.] ...And I don't care about your weird hair.
[Obviously he does, since he felt the need to say that, but! Hmph!]
[Oh, now it was stupid!! Shut up, Lalli!!! Emil rolls his eyes, over here on his end of the bed, but he is the bigger person here and he will not descend into petty sniping like some little babies in the room.
You know, out loud. He won't descend into petty sniping out loud. That doesn't stop him from being sick of Lalli's dumb issue with his hair, though, which he does have a perfect solution for: just taking his damn hair out of the ponytail already. It's not gross and warm here in their room, so he tugs the elastic out of his hair and... shoots it lamely over at Lalli. It's soft, all it does is lightly whap into his shoulder and flop down onto the bed, but he's making a point.
The point is shut up, whiner. Emil sighs again, reaching up to shake his hair out of its residual ponytail shape as he twists and gets up off the bed.]
I'm taking a break! I'll be right back.
[He needs a bathroom mirror and 2 minutes, both to fix his hair properly and to get away from Lalli's weird hissy fit for a bit. Stay there, chill out...
He'll be back in 2 minutes, hands on hips, giving Lalli a Look.]
[It was stupid because it caught him totally off guard! Just like the ponytail holder pinging off his shoulder catches him off guard, actually, because of course he's spent the last minute or so pointedly not letting his eyes wander over in Emil's direction. He starts in surprise, automatically looking down at the makeshift missile before reaching right out to snatch it up. Rude! So rude! He's going to throw it right back at—
—the boy who is apparently leaving? Ah. Well, annoyed he may be, but that doesn't mean that Lalli is glad to see Emil (and his messy hair) walk out of the room. What is he supposed to do now... like, a contrary part of him says that he should take a break of his own, maybe go find something to gnaw on while Emil does whatever he's doing, but—fine. Fine. He will indeed just stay slumped against the wall like this, absentmindedly stretching this elastic thing between his fingers as his injured pride slowly recovers.
And you know, maybe all of this boring waiting is worth it when Emil reappears? Not that Lalli is going to say that, of course; the plan is to just glance over Emil's way before returning to this hairband-stretching exercise, but a glance turns into a lingering sort of look when he takes in the new state of Emil's hair. ...Much better! Much, much better, Emil, so catch that absurdly soft approval that Lalli is unknowingly throwing out into the mental world. That, plus... a vague sense of disappointment? Not because the hair is exactly like it should be; that's obviously a good thing, but he didn't get to exercise his Best Friend Privilege and... help fix it...
...Hmm. Well. Now he shifts his attention back down to Emil's dumb ponytail holder, trying to think solely about this tangible thing.]
I was okay. Before.
[There's still some pettiness to be found there, but there isn't nearly as much as there was, like, a few short minutes ago. Hair magic.]
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