Anya pops up on her legs and follows Shape out. While the trek up to the cave wasn't too long, the view from this platform overlooks at least the northern reaches of the trees, which seem to be shorter than the heart of the grove. Anya points out to a somewhat less pleasant looking area in that direction. "Out there. The swampy place. We're looking for a plant that's both dead and alive, the Necrolily. Be warned, Yarrow's actually a bit of a bitch, especially compared to Ophelia."
Shape seems to be walking a bit faster than Anya's pace at all times, and he constantly has to slow down or ask if they're going in a certain direction before walking ahead. He says, sometime after Anya clarifies where they're headed, "I hope we can get that plant, then. I really do. I'll do anything. I'm honestly quite scared, suddenly. And, well, at least a fairy's going to be really upset if I die now, isn't he? Someone to know if I pass away, except like Vera I guess..." The shapeshifter sighs, and he stops at one point just to kiss the fairy on the lips again, much more briefly. "And I want more of that. More of you. You know? Maybe I'm not too old and worn. I dunno. I really feel something with your lips." Shape is utterly rambling.
"You're going to make me cry..." He makes a small whine, and makes sure to keep up Shape's pace as best she can. She feels the cold sting again too, and knows he has it much worse. She'd be willing to pick a fight with Yarrow for once if needed, and that's a tall order. They make good headway, this edge of the forest is much less dense than what they trekked through earlier. "You'll... Ah, never mind. We can figure that if necessary. For now, we need plants to happen. I hope Fluffs is back when we get to my house."
Shape winces again and slows down for a few steps as they approach the edges of the swamp. He steps around a dead log and sighs. "Thank you for everything once more. You're not only the only reason I'm even alive, you're also kind of giving me reason to try harder. Yeah." Shape nods. "Plants... I hope the cat is too. Really we'd have done so much to get to this point. In such a short amount of time... So, I wanted to mention, I come from Germany, fairy. A distant country. I came here a bit over forty years ago in the search for freedom. People were hunting me down because of my powers. Powers I barely understood. I was ten years old, Anya." He runs his hands across his own arms.
"Oh god, that sounds dreadful. I've had some people maliciously try to seek me out but not nearly anything of that sort..." As the trees are clear enough to give good sight and the ground is icky enough to warrant watching your step, Anya stops at a strongly wet patch of mud. She sighs, and sticks her hand into it, closing her eyes. There's a slight tingle of magic that passes through the sickly grass around. Not outgoing, though. Incoming.
"...Yeah. And the worst part is I didn't even escape my problems, you know? In America I had to deal with lingering government search for me, the occasional magic-seeking cult member. I actually got captured on one occasion. It's amazing I got out. And, you know, I was basically just going from home to home. Sometimes I impersonated someone who I knew lived there but not around, or pretend to be someone who was booked to a hotel room but wasn't. Sometimes I was a child just to get sympathy. But sometimes I was homeless. And sometimes, I really didn't want to be homeless, and I'd..." He frowns and stares around at the disgusting, magically-charged grass. He stands closer to Anya, even in mud.
Anya listens to this rambly retelling, and makes a slightly upset sighing noise. "I'll make sure that wasn't all for nothing, and to fix that... We need to go that way." She wipes off her hand feebly in the grass, and then points off along the edge of the swamp. "I could say a lot of things but we're short on time, possibly. So there's this Dryad. Yarrow. She supposedly drowned in this swamp over three hundred years ago, but somehow wasn't entirely dead all that time. And by the time some manner of questionable magic brought her back to life, her spores and roots and magic had spread throughout all this mud and grime. She senses it all, to some extent. And she's very full of herself, knowing that she basically owns all this area full of things that people desire. She's smug and swampy and undead, and acts the part. She has... Some weaknesses though. We'll get you that flower." Anya shivers slightly, and pulls her jacket a bit closer. Staining it with mud from his hand in the process.
Shape sighs as well, then. He lets the fairy talk, and he grabs onto Anya's borrowed jacket when he's done. "So, is Yarrow going to appear here or should we keep looking for her? I can't say I've dealt much with magic pertaining to the very nature of life and death itself. Fitting that I'd do it now. I guess... Yes, the undead flower. Of course." And he seems like he's going to cry. Overdue, some would say. But Shape is less ready than he was yesterday. He stares at Anya's eyes from the side.
The two appear at a path of dirt that's a bit more firm than most of this land, edging on what almost seems to be a pool of grimy water. It's quiet, but Anya seems to be sure they're at the right place. She picks up a small rock and drops it into the pool with a nasty little 'blup' sound.
...
"Yarrow. I know you're there. Any other day I'd play game but it's pretty serious this time."
There's a slow shift in the water, and a peculiar figure emerges rolling a pair of piercing orange eyes.
"S'up."
Shape keeps the distance from himself and Anya to nothing, and he stares at the emerging dryad of the dead and ick with some tears. He swallows. "Anya has kept me temporarily alive from a horrible curse I've been afflicted to freeze my heart." He again holds said heart under his chest, and he continues after losing his breath, "And we're so close to creating a permanent solution. We just need a Necrolily. Please, Yarrow." He squeezes Anya's shoulder, and he looks down from Yarrow's steely eyes.
"Ah shit. You keep dragging these people in but that does seem worse than most of them. Where do you keep finding them? I get all the explorers and collectors that are way out of their waters." There's a pause, and Yarrow sinks down deep enough to form some bubbles when she hmms thoughtfully. "Look, I was ready to make a whole deal of making you work for it but..."
"I'll whine to Lydia if you manage to botch this entirely by being stubborn. I'll find you a payment later, I promise, but this isn't the time. I'm sorry. I'll even throw in a Rose Orchid, guaranteed. You can't say no to that." Anya sighs with some manner of relief, happy that Yarrow isn't a complete nuisance for once.
There's an annoyed groan. "Okay, but next time I will drive a hard bargain. You caught me in a good mood." She shoots a look to Shape, almost expectantly.
Shape nods and continues to cry anyway, relieved that the dryad is taking pity on what's effectively a stranger with connections. He says, words tumbling over one another, his eyes beaming with youth, "Yarrow thank you so much—thank you thank you thank you. Oh my god." He wipes his eyes with his free arm, and he then he feels for his heartbeat with it. "I understand completely. I really do. I'll play that game another time... So, right, the Necrolily? How's that work..?" He glances between Anya and her, hopeful. He thinks about Anya and him making out.
"It's a big need, Yarrow, so we'll need the bulk of it. Roots and leaves and all that mass. Don't have to be a perfect plant, just a fairly large one." There's a soft, pleading tone in his voice, infected by Shape's desperation.
Yarrow closes her eyes for a bit, and focuses. Sensing. "There's some nearby. Give me just a minute." She clambers up on the dry land next to them, and the full extent of her size becomes clear once she's not shoulders deep in the mud. She much be at least seven feet tall, towering over the small fairy. She paces past them, dripping off continuously - She doesn't even vanish out of view as she carefully tilts a hollow and dead, partially submerged tree trunk off the ground. Reaching her hand in, she procures a greyish white plant, along with the mount of dirt it was sitting in. It looks vastly unhealthy and yet full of life somehow, as if it's at the prime of a very miserable life. Yarrow returns, and basically shoves it into Shape's hands. "You owe me. Try not to die so that you can repay me."
Yarrow's impressive figure, once fully walking about, interests Shape about as much as he could be given the underlying circumstances. He couldn't even imagine being three hundred whole years old—probably another odd twenty years atop of that. The amount of people who would become friends with Shape and die, the amount of memories that would pile and shove away older ties. Shape stares at the white withered and bloomed thing in his hands, detecting through his abilities and its soil perhaps the rarest and most intimidating form of magic, necrotic magic. He nods, and says, "Of course. Thank you..." He shivers, and he presses his hands and dirt just about against him. He starts walking back from the pool from the direction Anya and him came, and he says hardly louder, "I would stay if there was any time... I'll just say I like your nail polish, and that this magic is something special... Come on, Anya."
Yarrow huffs slightly. You can tell that it's an attempt to seem offended by the quick retreat, but it doesn't work. "...Good luck with that, Anya. He seems to deserve it."
The fairy nods and quickly scurries after Shape, then nudges him to the side a bit. "It's a bit more in that direction, we don't need to wrap all the way around the forest again. I know the good paths here. And uh... Good job being absolutely pitiful, I suppose. She's rarely that agreeable but she's not inherently careless or dismissive."
"Also, her girlfriend would disapprove. Don't tell her I said that. The two kind of deny being a thing but it's like the most obvious thing of all. You should meet Lydia sometime in the future."
Despite passing through thicker forest, there always seems to be a traversable line somewhere in all this thicket. While so full of life and dense, it's clear that a lot of creatures and beings pass through here with much care for nature instead of carving a path. And the forest gives way, in return.
Shape takes the new direction, and he walks ahead of her in shorter bursts than before the swamp. "I wasn't trying to be pitiful," He says. "It must have just came across that way. And I'm glad even someone like her can end up with a romantic partner. I'd love to meet Lydia someday... You know everything, Anya. None of this would have been possible without you. I can't let you forget how grateful I am for this chance. I might make it." He stares at the Necrolily as they step through the greenery. It's beautiful. "The world conditioned me to think I was a problem, a monster. I thought I was as strange as Yarrow, an alien to life and its creatures, in my case simply adopting their forms to appear normal. I thought this way for a long time, actively and then subconsciously in a longer form of self-doubt. Eventually, though, I learned to accept myself. I made friends. And I embraced that I could be any age, any human form, and later any gender. And I wanted to be twenty-one forever."
"You're... considerably insightful. I wonder how you'll feel about all you've said when you're okay again, hehe." They're approaching where Shape found Anya originally, and even ahead of their return he whistles the same three tones from earlier, trying to notify the cat that they're on the way. It's cold. Very cold. The fairy does her best to hide that she's suffering too by now, doesn't want Shape to feel bad for him.
Shape wishes he could hug Anya instead of holding the Necrolily, for warmth and for comfort. Instead, his eyes wander around them. "Come on, Mittens. Come on now... Yeah, I guess I've been—filling you in on my life. I want you to know who I am... Like how the way I viewed my age—" Shape gasps, and he buckles to his knees, keeping his grip on the plant although shedding some of its soil. His breathing has grown heavier as if the air's thinned. "Mm. Anya. I'm sorry. This is my fault. Remember." He whimpers.
Anya stops, and kneels down next to Shape. "Fuck, we're so close, we really just need to get those flareblooms and everything will probably be okay again... Please..." She whistles again, more urgently, and starts rummaging for some rocks. She drags over a rather flat slab and starts picking at the Necrolily, stripping off the dirt and laying it out across the stone. "I need the Rubium, you took it. I just want to be as ready as possible for when-"
Some leaves rustle, and the cat pops out of a bush, dropping a satchel from her mouth. "Mbrrp." She headbutts Anya gently, and receives some quick but loving pats as a reward.
Shape reaches into his pocket with his freshly freed and dirtied hands, producing the prime example of Rubium from Ophelia. And he hands it to Anya weakly. He sits on the earth. And he curls up his legs and arms and shivers them all freely, without expectations. "If something doesn't work, remember... This is my fault alone. You did everything you could." He shuts his eyes as if it would remove the struggling. And he shakes his head sometimes. "But... You put so much into this. I believe."
"Please, just have faith for three more minutes, we're almost there..." She pries open the satchel, tearing it in the process and receiving a displeased mow in response. Anya can fix it later, not now. The flarebloom is woven carefully around the limbs of the miserable little plant with the rubium sitting in the middle of it all. And - The fairy isn't at all adept in fire but it really just needs a spark of pink energy to set it all ablaze, a terrific crackle that would consume any regular plant in mere seconds. But the undead mass keeps feeding the blazing little fire, which the gem absorbs continuously. There's no heat that radiates outwardly. Anya watches, counting lowly to herself. "I can't rush this. It has to be enough."
Shape's tipped over to his side in this fetal position. His hair is in the soft, cushioned grass. He thinks of it as very comfortable. And he knows if he waited he might fall asleep eventually, probably forever. Maybe this is what older people mean when they can know when their time has run out even before they sleep. Something Shape's read about, anyway. But, well, it isn't Shape's time. Anya is making sure of that. Shape wants to know what tomorrow holds for him, and the day after that, and so on, knowing he can see the fairy in the forest who truly kissed him at his worst.
He lifts his head from the grass, and then resumes hugging himself sitting upright. "Yeah. Of course."
"...Now." Anya dumps a pile of wet dirt onto the fire, stifling it with a ferocious sizzle. He quickly rummages, pulling out the gem.
It's surprisingly not physically warm to the touch and easy to hold, but through their connection Shape can feel a wave of strong emotional energy, roaring life, pass through both of them. Soulfire. Anya pants quite struck by this different warm sensation as he takes the gem and a rock in his hands. She pushes shape's arms aside, and tears open his shirt.
"This will suck, a lot. Have fun." She strikes the gem with the edge of the rock, shattering one of the pointed edges. And she jabs its jagged surface against his skin, drawing slight blood.
What Shape felt from Anya's connection was nothing.
Every inch of Shape's mind, soul, emotions, is seared, invigorated, enveloped in figurative flames as the gem no longer absorbs or holds onto all this power.
Shape's confused by the strong orb's energy inside of him, but it's very welcome in this dire time... And then, when Anya prepares Shape for the final solution to this curse and then stabs it right along his skin, he almost screams but is stopped by the flames of the emotions and mind, unable to even process the response for this total flame of a person. He suffers in a quiet hell, deprived of everything but blazing heat. And the short time span manages to lose much meaning.
Everyone who's loved him comes to mind, and every way he's felt in his life seems important, when the Rubium's reserve depletes. His legs stretch out, and he recollects who he is and what miracle's just happened. How, too, all the cold has gone, leaving only the normal cool breeze anyhow of the forest.
Shape says, through teeth and exhaustion, "You did it..."
Anya rests a hand on Shape's exposed chest, allowing himself to finally withdraw the borrowed orb again. She's gasping, trembling. He partook in all of that too, after all. And she lets herself simply fall over next to him. "You felt warm again. We did it. I can relax, now..." Her eyes flutter slightly. Anya feels like he could sleep for several hours after that fierce toasting. "We probably shouldn't fall asleep though. We're kind of just on the forest floor."
"I am... Not moving." He reaches out his arm to the fairy, tapping him weakly. And eventually he finds the side of the fairy and pulls the fairy closer to his shoulder and side. The ShapeShifter is warm to the touch. "I just want to be limp."
The fairy doesn't hesitate to scoot close, and sighs. "We need to do something, eventually. But you're right... For now, nothing is good too. I missed flying this past day, but I don't want to be a small creature right now. I just want to be the right size for our arms." He rests his head against the shoulder.
He closes his eyes and nods, and he says in careful redundancy, "Thank you... For everything." He seems less responsive in minutes, his breathing seems to mellow, and then he's fallen asleep. He's relieved, and he still has purpose and place in the world.
--------------------
Despite his attempted concern and annoyance at the situation, Anya had soon after fallen asleep too and some hours pass before she stirs awake again. She slinks out of Shape's arms by becoming smaller, and pats him a few times on the cheek with some small hands. "Sleepyhead. Snoozypants! Time for lying in the grass is over."
Shape mumbles and nearly swats the fairy off his cheek. He stops himself partway, though, and wiggles around to a hunched stand. He rubs his eyes. "I... think I have it in me now. Well, wow, I guess that means... Well. I don't know what it means. I kind of want to just kiss you uncontrollably, to be honest. You saved my life, this time for real, for good." He opens his eyes to the fairy that's returned to fairy-size and flying, however, and smiles. "Aw, I thought you looked sort of cute in my sweater."
Anya giggles, and pecks Shape on the nose. She is, again, undressed not bothering to magic up a plant weave for herself again, but such is something you must simply get used to from a forest fairy. "I need to stretch my wings on occasion and turning your sweater tiny is maybe not what you want from me. Making it bigger again is more difficult, after all!" She does a few circles and flips in the air, and then yawns quite impressively as she settles in pace again. "So, um... What's your plan now?"
Shape watches the remarkable little fairy in flight, and he then yawns in return. He points his finger somewhere. "I guess... Well. If that's the way to my car, I guess I need to go home. Even though I've been really having a lot of fun, and really like you. We'll at least see each other every month... Although, honestly, I think I'd be feeling pretty alone now back home. Knowing you're out here." He puts his hand down and bites his lip. "You could keep the sweater, shrink it down if you like. I'll just make a new one soon anyway. Comes in part with my shapeshifting... I know I already sort of told you this, but you look very pretty, Anya. Even when you're a little naked thing... I was sort of thinking maybe we could just sleep in my car again? Before I have to go home? I don't know."
Anya rubs the back of her neck, and sighs... "I've enjoyed you too. I'd miss you when you leave. That's not usually how these encounters go. I'm glad you find me pretty, and I'd love to join you for one more rest." He considers the sweater for a bit, before carefully letting it turn small as she puts her hands on it. Some fizzly dust emits from it, excess mass being removed. It certainly would be harder to reverse that. She tries to put it on, and realizes that's not really effective with her wings. "Ah. Awkward."
He says, "Yeah, I guess I don't know what most encounters are like, but you're not at all the fairy I first imagined, so I can't imagine you being much else than a sweetheart... Let's have one more rest together. We could head there right now unless there's anything you'd like maybe at your place?" The fairy's shrinking magic in some ways mirrors the "magic sand" Shape's own abilities manifests mid-transformation, and so Shape studies it closely. He shakes his head, and he says, "I suppose you could always punch some slits for those wings later?" And he walks away from the patch they slept on and hopefully the fairy-approved right direction.
"Mmm... Oh, speaking of things to want. Haven't you eaten like... One bagel today? Usually that's not a lot but you aren't a 'usually' kind of human so maybe that's just fine for you. I can arrange food but it'd be small and not enough for you. I myself could find a berry and I'd probably be good for the day!" She picks up the sweater and flies it up to her house, and quickly returns again. "I don't want you flopping over from lack of food right after I went through all this effort."
"Oh... Yeah, honestly I was so stressed out I forgot I have barely eaten anything these past couple days, even. I could use a large meal." Shape sighs. "Well. As much as I'd be tempted to pig out at the gas station on random garbage, I think I probably really should eat at a restaurant? I have the money, I just kinda didn't want to leave you alone... I don't suppose you wouldn't want to come along? It'd be even a bit further from the forest than the gas station... But if you didn't want to come along that's okay. We could just meet up in the parking lot." He shrugs. "I'm sorry this is all really awkward. I guess I haven't been around a fairy this long before. I'm willing to try and make our night work, though. Like I was thinking you haven't even seen proof I'm magic yet, too, and I'd like to show you."
"Well I don't have any clothes and those places probably care more about being proper, so I could sit in your pocket but then you'd be talking at yourself and that surely would come across as odd to everyone else. Maybe you should just... Go get that sorted, yeah. I'll be happy to wait for you. I need to fix Nala's pouch I tore trying to get you on your feet faster, and I'd find a snack too in your away." She does sound a bit sad though at the thought. She perches herself on Shape's shoulder, and stretches. The wings flutter softly, causing a peculiar breeze against his cheek. "I'd love to see that, hehe. Shapeshifting? You'll have to show me what silly things you can achieve~"
"I'd say you could just sit in my pocket, yeah, but you're a bit bigger than my pocket still. And although I don't mind how odd you'd make me seem to the uninitiated, I'd definitely just be more concerned with revealing a fairy to normal humans by accident." He attempts to nuzzle the fairy with his cheek, although it's a bit tricky. And he says, turning his head to him as manageable, "So I guess I'll just drive on back. And then, tell you what, I'll do you the classic and I'll appear as anyone you might want. Maybe don't pick something you won't want to cuddle with, though. I don't want to change again until maybe morning... So, I guess see you later?" He rubs his lips with his hand from his opposite side, and he then lightly pats the fairy with it. "It won't be more than an hour. Let's remember that. I promise."
"That sounds good, then... I'll lead you out and meet you at the gas station later. And give some thoughts to what you could be! But it's a hard choice, hmm. I'll give it thought~. Don't choke on your food if you're so intent on scarfing it down though. You're allowed to savor it a tiny little bit. People not knowing much about Fairies might make my presence kind of awkward, this is true." The fairy flops backwards off the shoulder and swoops around towards the direction they're headed. "I'll be buzzing about trying to spot a fruit or berry for the way back, if you don't mind."
"Hey, I don't mind at all. Although now I have to wonder how much of the food pyramid a fairy partakes in, really." He keeps his eye on the fairy, although the movement is quite erratic. "I'll try to savor my food, and look, I promise that was the only near death experience I'll have for at least a while earlier. I'm not going to choke! Thank you for your concern though," He says, warmly. As they make it out to the edge of the parking lot, a couple more cars are situated in the parking lot than before. Shape glances at the chick working the register from yesterday walking out to her car, which she impatiently revs up and drives off. Shape then walks into the lot, calling behind him, "Alright, see you very soon, Anya, my lovely hero."
"Bye, come back soon~" The fairy blows a small kiss, a little flurry of sparkles appearing as he does. The gas station gal catches Anya's attention too, and she takes a small mental note. And she flutters off to enjoy a large strawberry and do her chores.