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seasandfoam · 2 years ago

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TIMING: current PARTIES: @seasandfoam & @recoveringdreamer LOCATION: juno's totally legally obtained house SUMMARY: felix helps juno get rid of some unwanted junk, and the two have a conversation. CONTENT WARNINGS: discussions of parental death

Juno hadn’t ever cared much for lavish lifestyles, but a human’s greed was hard to ignore, especially when it was so blatantly painted as this grand thing. The bigger the house, the more money somebody made. The more they tore into the earth, the more they destroyed it. Meanwhile, there were endless cases of which their own kind could hardly survive on their meager paychecks. Though she cared very little for humans overall, it was easier to split between those who were trying to survive, and those who were simply living.

She supposed Felix, the individual she met online, was a part of the former. They mentioned their small apartment, and if Juno were somebody else, she could have offered more than she did. If this were not some human, then perhaps she would have bound somebody else into giving up their home, especially if they were fae. But she figured giving them the opportunity to sell the most expensive things from within the house she stole would be the best bet. The truck they arrived in was slightly beaten down, but it looked taken care of. That was a nice change of pace. “Felix?” Juno stood at the top of the stairs, motioning for them to follow her inside. “Like I said online, you can take anything you want. Sell it, keep it, I don’t care. As long as you don’t put it in a landfill.” She turned around to look at them. “Does that sound fair?”

—

Things had been… rough since their experience with the warden. No, that wasn’t — Rough wasn’t enough. Rough didn’t even begin to cover it. Felix didn’t really remember much about the jaguar’s days in control — even if the warden hadn’t hit him with the sedative that forced the shift, he wouldn’t have been privy to the details. The jaguar didn’t tend to share with its host, especially not since Felix had started letting it out to play only in moments of severe danger and violence. It almost felt as if the jaguar was angry with them sometimes, like it was punishing them.

And the jaguar wasn’t the only one.

They’d missed a few fights in the Pit. At a normal job, a ‘no call-no show’ situation got you written up. Do it enough, and it’ll get you fired. But at the Grit Pit? Termination wasn’t really an option. The painful pull of the contract was probably what had caused the jaguar to relinquish control to begin with, but Felix’s bosses at the Grit Pit didn’t seem to care that they’d already felt the negative effects of their ‘disloyalty.’ There was more punishment to be had. They’d been doubled up on fights, given no chance to rest in between.

The result was a balam who looked a little more like a zombie climbing out of their truck at the address they’d been given, shuffling their feet with one arm draped against their aching ribs. “Huh?” They glanced up at the sound of their name, brow furrowing for a moment as their tired mind caught up. “Oh. Yeah. Felix. That’s me. And you’re, uh… Juno?” God, they felt half-dead. There’d been no time to sleep the night before, but if they napped now they knew they’d sleep through their alarm to make it to the Pit tonight, and that would only make their situation worse. Best to just finish up here and grab coffee number… whatever they were on now. “Yeah, no, that’s fair. No landfills. I’ll probably sell it online or something.” Not that they needed the cash. Extra fights meant extra pay. The Pit was ‘fair’ about that, at least. “This is a nice house. You, um, you weren’t kidding.”

—

Felix looked far more exhausted than she had anticipated. Like a kicked puppy, or a wet cat. Juno’s gaze lingered on them for a moment longer before she turned to one of the art pieces she wanted gone. It was offensive to look at, and it continued to bring just all around terrible energy to the front room. Not that she knew anything about decorating, but it was ugly. That’s all there was to it.

“I came into it pretty suddenly, yeah.” She looked around her surroundings, gaze siding over every nook and cranny. It wasn’t home to her, not really. It was a place she had won, fair and square. Her gaze cut to Felix who looked too small for the room. They were only a few inches taller than herself, but she felt as though she carried herself in a manner that was better than he.

“Do you want anything to drink?” The fridge was stocked full, a variety of different choices hanging on the door and on one of the shelves. The only reason she hadn’t gotten rid of everything the previous occupant left behind was because she didn’t want it to go to waste, no matter how little she actually cared for the material things, food or otherwise. “You can take anything you want from it, for helping me.” She offered them a polite smile before taking a beer for herself. It was maybe too early for one, but what did it matter? She existed outside of the norm, anyway. “You look…” She observed them for a moment before continuing, “like shit, if I’m being honest.”

She didn’t know Felix, so it mattered to her very little, but the idea of them breaking themselves while trying to transport things to their truck wasn’t ideal.

—

She looked at them for a moment, studying them briefly before turning back to a painting on the wall. Felix couldn’t decide if they wanted her to look longer or not. Did they want people to know they were struggling? They thought of Anita, of the way she’d offered to help them and how good it had felt to have someone believe, even momentarily, that they were someone worth saving. Maybe they wanted Juno to think the same, just a little.

“Did, uh… Was it a ‘will’ situation?” There was a beat, then Felix ducked their head. “Sorry. You don’t have to answer that. Sorry.” It wasn’t something they would have asked if not for the exhaustion and anxiety clinging to their bones. If the Grit Pit’s punishment for the missed fights weren’t bad enough, they spent every moment not within the Pit’s walls wondering if the warden was going to come after them again. It felt unfair; they should be worried about rangers, not wardens. And yet, the anxiety remained, clinging for all it was worth.

Juno’s voice pulled them from the confines of their own mind, and they shrugged. “Maybe just some water. Thanks.” She was being remarkably kind, wasn’t she? Offering them whatever they wanted, claiming they were helping her when they were actually just getting a bunch of free stuff. It was nice. After the encounter with the warden, he thought he probably needed it. A reminder that humanity wasn’t as bad as they’d been led to believe all this time, that there were good things mingled in with the bad. Good people still existed, even if men who cornered you in back alleys and tried to cut off your tail existed, too. Swallowing, Felix forced a chuckle. “Yeah,” they agreed. “I, uh… I’ve been having… a rough time, I guess. I was… sick, and I missed some shifts at work without letting them know. Now I’m making up for it. But it’s okay. It’ll probably only be a couple more days.”

At least, for the Grit Pit’s punishment. The anxiety that clung to them would last longer, might never go away entirely. They knew that.

—

“A will situation?” It took Juno, but she still wasn’t quite sure what they had meant. “What would somebody named Will have anything to do with me getting this house?” What an odd question. But who was she to judge? Maybe Felix knew plenty of Will’s who dealt with the housing market. “You don’t need to apologize. I do not even know who Will is, so you didn’t bother me.” She eyed them carefully, still not sure she had gathered everything correctly. Maybe she should have spent more time around people named Will.

“Sure.” She grabbed one of the unopened bottles, handing it over to them. The beer was open, too, but it remained at her side as a prop more than something she was actually consuming. It was easy to forget about things like that, even when trying to make a point to be something else. As they began to explain what a terrible time they’d been having, Juno felt a pang of something. Anger over corporate greed, was what she chalked it up to. It was easy to become angry at the way human’s allowed themselves to be treated, especially by those who were better off. But was it really that easy to rise up? Probably not, otherwise it should have happened already. What a strange cycle of violence they lived in.

Juno frowned. “And they’re retaliating? Your work, I mean.” He looked worse for wear. He had bruises beneath his eyes that Juno wasn’t entirely sure came from actual exhaustion, or being punched in the eye. Hadn’t they said that they worked at a gym? “Did somebody miss the punching bag? Are you a trainer of some kind?” Perhaps she should get trained in hand-to-hand. Being away from the water was getting more dangerous every day, and all she had were her words in a town where people knew not to give thanks.

—

Oh. She’d misunderstood. Felix wasn’t sure whether to try to explain it and dig themself into a deeper hole or to let it be and let her think they were… strange. They grappled with it for a moment before deciding to just let it go. If it was an inheritance thing, pushing the subject would probably be painful. So they offered her a small smile and a shrug. “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t matter how you got the house, right? It’s your house now.” Maybe it was something less tragic, like an estate sale or an auction. Those things tended to leave people with houses full of a previous resident’s items, too, right? Felix chose to believe it, because it was nicer. They liked it when things were nicer.

He took the water with a grateful smile, opening the bottle and taking a sip. Immediately, the headache they didn’t realize they even had began to fade. Apparently hydration hadn’t been something they’d had a lot of time for over the last few days. It made sense, they supposed; they’d been spending almost every free moment in the ring, and it took a hell of a lot of water to rehydrate when you were sweating consistently. “Thanks,” they breathed, taking another gulp from the water bottle. Already, it was half-empty.

Juno seemed almost concerned in her line of questioning, and Felix shifted, looking sheepishly down at the water in his hands. “Yeah. They’re retaliating. They, uh… The people I work for, they don’t really like being told no.” That was an understatement. The Grit Pit’s whole business model was built around being predatory, after all. “Trainer’s… not really the right word for it.” Normally, Felix wouldn’t have been so open. There was some fear involved in working for the Pit, and some things his contract wouldn’t allow him to talk about at all. But Juno seemed concerned, and they were touched by it. No one had worried about them in a long time. “I’m a fighter. Uh, I fight people and people watch and make bets on it.”

—

“That’s exactly right.” Juno beamed at Felix, glad to know that they understood. She didn’t take things from people who didn’t deserve it. Even though she detested humans, she had seen how those who were underneath the thumb of their oppressors held little to no power in a situation. More often than not, when she left some place, she’d leave her spoils to those who needed them more than herself.

Felix dropped another thanks right into her lap, and though she had already collected one, she decided to let this one go. They seemed tired, and besides, if she continued cashing them in in the same way she had previously, then wouldn’t they catch on? She didn’t want to tarnish this just yet. She’d let them figure it out on their own down the road, but not right now. Juno shook her head. “No need to thank me, it’s just water.” She opted out of telling them not to thank anyone else. She may have needed to cash something in at a later time. “Do you want another? You’re like a fish out of water with that.” She motioned towards the nearly empty bottle.

As Juno listened to Felix explain their line of work, she found herself repulsed. “You fight? For money?” She wasn’t much of a fighter herself, and she often used her word binds to get her way, or the water if she was close enough. She couldn’t imagine having to fight in order to pay rent. It seemed exhausting, and suddenly she understood why they were carrying themselves the way they were. “You’re far too kind to be a fighter.” Maybe this was something fake, a shield, or some other way to pull one over on her. To pretend to be pathetic. But the more she looked at Felix, the more she took him for a wet cat. She had seen such things on television, and even then she hadn’t understood it. Whether this was inherently supernatural, or just a human’s lack of imagination, she wasn’t sure. “Why do you do it?” Maybe it was a question that would go unanswered, but she wanted to know. In doing so, she hadn’t realized she stepped closer to him, able to make out the bumps and bruises– the nose that’d been reset probably a dozen times. “Why?”

—

At least she seemed pleased with their assessment. Maybe it was tied to a death of one kind or another, maybe she was trying desperately to see the positive in it. Felix could understand that. They often did the same, tried so hard to be the optimist even when things felt bleak. They had money in the bank, even if they hated where it came from. They had their own apartment, even if it was falling apart. Maybe Juno was the same, enjoying what she had even if the way she’d gotten it had been unpleasant. Felix offered her a small smile and hoped it would help, too.

They finished off the water, that ache in their head a little less now but still present. At Juno’s assessment, they flushed a little. “Sorry. I don’t, um… I don’t want to put you out. I guess I’m a little dehydrated right now.” A few days of roaming town as a jaguar would do that for you. They weren’t sure what the jaguar had done for food or water during the time he’d had control — they tried not to think about it too much. The days after Felix was back to themself were full of groveling to their bosses at the Pit, begging their way out of punishments more severe than the ones they were given. (One of Leo’s friends had suggested making them spend a few days in one of the basement cages. The very thought of it made Felix feel sick.) “If you don’t mind, I — I could use some more. But only if you don’t mind. Like I said, I don’t want to put you out.”

They nodded, shifting their weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. “Yeah, I do.” They ached with her assessment — that they were too kind to be a fighter. They wished it was true. Felix tried to be kind. They wanted to be kind. But when they were in that ring and the fear gripped them… You couldn’t be kind and still be good at doing what Felix did. And they were good at it. If they weren’t, maybe the contract that bound them wouldn’t hold on so tightly. Her next question, too, felt stifling. Why did they do it? Because I don’t have a choice, they wanted to say, but they couldn’t. Being that candid about the Grit Pit would go against their contract. “Because I have to,” they said instead. Vague enough to slip through the cracks. “And, um… I probably wouldn’t be good at any other job, anyway.” Leo had said as much to them.

—

“Stop saying that.” She wasn’t even sure what it meant, but she figured it had something to do with not wanting to drink all of it. It wasn’t like she needed it. She’d never drank fresh water, she wasn’t sure if it would hurt her if she tried, and none of the other nereids had tried either. “You can have all of it. I’ll pack it up for you on your way out.” She gestured vaguely to the fridge. “You can have it, too, if you want. The fridge, I mean.” It wasn’t like Juno needed it anyway.

Juno excelled at knowing when people spewed bullshit. But this was a different situation. Felix wasn’t trying to destroy something. Maybe themself, but not the world around them. Or maybe this was their version of doing so. Of breaking themself down, hoping for some kind of relief. It hadn’t crossed her mind that maybe he was forced into it. She had no reason to believe such a thing. She noticed the proximity to which she’d approached him, taking an immediate step back. “Why are you mean to yourself?” Another question she didn’t have the right to ask, but it slipped out anyway as she turned back towards the fridge, grabbing another bottle of water. She hated the amount of plastic that this was using. “You must recycle these. All of them.” Juno handed it over to him before leaning against the opposite wall. “So you’re a fighter, and you want to sell my things. Those are two very different traits. What kind of person do you want to be, Felix?”

—

“Sorry,” he said again, realizing belatedly that that was probably the very thing she wanted him to quit repeating. They opened their mouth to apologize for the apology, only to snap it shut again at the last moment. Right. They were bad at this, weren’t they? “Are you sure? I mean, you need water. Unless you like drinking out of the sink? Or from one of those Britta filters. I have one of those in my apartment. It’s supposed to be better for the environment. Less waste.” They were rambling. They stopped themself again, flashing her an apologetic smile. “I don’t really need a new fridge. Um, I don’t even know if I’m allowed to get a new one. The one I have came with the apartment. So I’m probably supposed to keep it.” Frankly, they had no idea what the conditions of their lease actually were. They’d been so desperate to get out of the apartment they’d shared with Leo that they’d taken the first thing that came along in their budget.

He sniffed a little, noting the scent of seasalt but chalking it up to the ocean outside. They tried to focus on her voice instead, though the question caught them off guard. Why are you mean to yourself? They’d never really thought about it before. They knew they’d internalized a lot of what Leo had told them, knew they took it to heart more than they should have. They just weren’t quite sure how to stop it. “I don’t know,” they admitted quietly, glancing away. They took the new water bottle, opening it and taking a few gulps. Not as desperate as before, but clearly still fighting for hydration. “Yeah. Of course. I, um, I always recycle. My mom, she was really into the outdoors. Kind of like… a modern hippie, really. Taught us to love the environment.” More rambling. At least this was a related topic.

—

Felix’s question gave Juno pause. After a moment, she shrugged. “I’m not thirsty at present, and if it turns out I am, I’ll find another source.” Better to say that than to explain she was afraid of what drinking water might do to her. She, herself, was made of water– did she even technically need to hydrate? It wasn’t like the rain hurt her, but she wasn’t willing to test out the theory of drinking water, even if she was enjoying a beer in the same breath. “As long as you recycle them, you can have it all.” She felt like a broken record, telling Felix that they could have what they wanted as long as it didn’t end up in a dump somewhere. “Oh.” She was slightly disappointed to hear that Felix might not be able to take the entire fridge home with them. “Well, if it turns out you can, then you know where it’s at.” She smiled at him, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Something shifted in Felix as they answered the question and if Juno had any tact, she would know to not press them on the issue. “I don’t think it’s very productive.” Juno was hard on herself, sure. The vengeance she wore, thick as tar, was almost too much to place aside. It was always on her mind. She watched as Felix took a drink from the second bottle, lips twitching in dismay at the amount of plastic being used up, but knowing it was of her own doing. It would have all sat in the fridge if not consumed, anyway. Better Felix take it to the recycling plant. “A modern hippie…” She’d heard that before. She’d run into a crew of twenty-somethings when she’d been freshly eighteen, they had told her about their drive to free the earth from consumption. Turns out, they all had trust funds back home and just didn’t want to go to college. Juno didn’t think that Felix was like that. They spoke with earnesty. “That’s good. It sounds like she’s a good woman.” Juno turned her attention to the ugly painting on the wall. “I mean it Felix, when I say you can take everything you make from all of this. As long as you get it out in the next couple of days.”

—-

“Okay. Yeah, if you’re sure. That’s really nice of you, thank you.” People weren’t usually like this. People, Felix had learned, were mostly selfish. They were stingy, they were mean sometimes. Felix tried to maintain what faith he’d once had in them, but it was so hard to do. The Grit Pit had shown them the worst that the supernatural world had to offer, and the humans who’d killed their mother back when they were a kid had shown them that humanity wasn’t much better. It was nice, sometimes, meeting people that reminded him it wasn’t all bad. There were people who’d take advantage of you, sure, but there were also people who’d give you everything they had in their fridge so long as you recycled the trash when you were finished. “I could see if anyone needs one, if you want. If you really need to get rid of it.” She was helping them out — they wanted to do the same for her, if they could.

Not very productive. She was right about that. But Felix wasn’t sure how to stop, had never learned to quell the instinct to put themself down once they’d developed it. Be kind to yourself, people said, as if that was an easy thing to do. As if everything in their head didn’t scream that that kindness was not deserved. But they didn’t want to say any of that to Juno. She seemed nice, and they worried that she wouldn’t like them much if she saw a glimpse of the storm clouds in their mind. So they smiled, shrugged a shoulder, said nothing at all. It was easier that way. “Yeah,” he said, thinking fondly of his mother. “She, um… She was.” Juno seemed desperate to be rid of the things left by the previous tenant, and Felix wondered again if there was some grief tied to it. “How about I load up everything that can fit in my truck today, and then tomorrow after work I can come by for more?”

—

There was that word again. Juno considered taking their thanks and tucking it away for later, but instead found an ounce of empathy for his situation. He was easy to take advantage of, she realized. And it was a little hard to watch. Those she typically bound with her words were deserving of whatever fate that befell them. She wasn’t sure Felix knew the weight behind his thanks, but would it do her any good to explain it to him? She considered it for a moment, before ultimately deciding now was not the time. What if she needed another favor down the road and he grew reluctant? “You don’t need to thank me.”

“Mmm, that’s fine.” Juno hoped that Felix would find the kind of person who actually needed something like the stainless steel fridge with far too many compartments. She didn’t figure those within strands of wealth would jump at the chance for something secondhand, so hopefully Felix would be able to continue helping her divvy up what had been left behind. The smile Felix wore was reflected by that of the ones those who were left from her community adorned when trying to fix a problem that had come up. Was. Juno nodded solemnly, gaze wandering over the house she’d stolen. “I’m sorry for your loss, Felix.” The words she spoke held a certain weight, the kind that could easily get lost if she didn’t back them up with something. “I’m sure she was… good.” Because she couldn’t be sure of that, but the fondness at which Felix seemingly remembered her told Juno that perhaps that were the truth. At his question, she nodded. “That sounds good to me. There’s a… I don’t know what it’s called, it helps you.” She pointed to the wheel and the metal bar contraption she’d seen people move things with. Luckily, it came with the house. “Let me know if you need any assistance, I’ll be taking the paintings off of the walls.”

—

You don’t need to thank me, she said, and Felix felt like they still did but they didn’t say it again. They were grateful. She knew that. There was no need to keep repeating it, even if the gratefulness only seemed to grow. She didn’t have to do any of this, after all. She didn’t have to be kind, didn’t have to help. But she was, and there was something so wonderful about that. A reminder he sometimes needed — that there were still people who were good and nice and decent. That not everyone was going to hurt you.

“Somebody at work might be interested.” They wondered if Thea had a fridge, or one of the other fighters. The latter were sometimes hard to catch before they left for the day, and many of them weren’t Felix’s biggest fan considering the way fights often went, but asking around would be nice, anyway. Most of the people at the Pit were in the same position as him, he knew; bound and unable to escape. It’d feel good, they hoped, to help someone, even if it wasn’t in an incredibly substantial way. Looking to Juno, they smiled softly. “Thanks,” they said quietly. “It, um, it was a long time ago. But she was, you know? She was a good person.” And the world was darker without her in it. Clearing their throat, Felix turned to look at the thing Juno indicated. “Oh! A dolly. I think it’s called a dolly. Not like Parton. Haha.” They moved over, picking it up and loading some of the heavier stuff onto it. “Sure. Just carry it all out to my truck, we’ll have it loaded up in no time.”

—

Juno nodded. As long as the items she was giving away weren’t sent to a dump to rot, she didn’t care where they went. She could have made money off of them, but what was the fun in that? There was none. Money was arbitrary, even if humans held onto it so selfishly. It was a made up construct that no matter how many times Alvaro had explained to her, it never made any sense. He was hundreds of years old and yet he hadn’t been able to make a good case for why people couldn’t just share and instead denied others the basic necessities due to lack of wealth.

He thanked her again and Juno’s lips twitched into a smile. “No need.” She took the painting off of the neighboring wall. Listening to others speak of those they lost was cathartic in a way. It was never something she could do, even if she liked to remind those she tortured with various mind games about what she had lost. “I’m glad you at least had her while you did.” Because that was honest. She was sure of it. “Dolly… I’m not sure who Parton is, but as long as it helps.” Another tight lipped smile, and she was moving a box she’d shoved a few pieces of expensive jewelry into onto the dolly. “Another thing, Felix. Don’t let anyone know any of this came from me.” She didn’t need people looking into her. “Promise?” Because even if she hadn’t taken his thanks, she needed to be assured of this one thing.

—-

They smiled at her kind words, nodding their head. Their time with their mother hadn’t been enough, but it never was, was it? It was always too soon, no matter when it happened. But that didn’t make the time he’d had her any less important. They were glad they’d gotten her at all; they felt lucky for it. “Oh, I can show you a playlist. I think you’d like her.” They offered Juno a grin, feeling a little more like themself and a little less like the exhausted husk the Grit Pit had made of them.

Furrowing their brow, they nodded. “Yeah,” they agreed, because it was a simple enough thing to ask. “Yeah, I promise. I won’t tell anyone it’s from you. Now, um, come on. Let’s start getting all this stuff off your hands.”

#para: move it felix #para: felix #parental death tw #wickedswriting

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