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[It's hot and miserable, but at least the gravestones have all disappeared. So, finally, Mary can stop running around being rabid and panicked and come back home without having her unconscious body thrown into bed. Today, despite the brilliant flush to her cheeks, Mary has found a winter scarf which she's bundled herself up in. With a heavy sigh, she flops down on the double-mattress, presumably beside her favorite clown.]

Why is it so hot when the sun has gone away?

[What a ripoff.]

[Rosinante vaguely regrets messing around with makeup earlier. It was fine a few hours ago, when he had woken up and found the graves gone, and decided it marked a time for a new start. Or at least a new look. But now he's melting onto the mattresses and he's pretty sure the colors on his face are, too.

It's so hot that, uncharacteristically for himself, he's opted for a t-shirt. His roommates have already realized by now his skin is covered in scars, and wearing anything heavier just doesn't feel like an option. So when Mary comes in, complaining of heat, with a scarf like that on? C'mon, kid.]

Might help if you took the scarf off, you know.

But it's soft, like a pillow!

[She says while laying on the bed with him where there are actual pillows of some nature, probably.]

[Certainly by now they've accumulated some. In any case, the look he gives her, with one slight raise of an eyebrow, is unimpressed.]

Then maybe put it under your head instead of all around. It's no wonder you're too hot. I'm too hot and I don't have a big scarf on.

I need it!

[That time, she's weirdly insistent. It's a statement that could and should probably use some elaborating, but...as usual, she's showing that stubborn side she has.]

[Yeah, that's strange. Mary is a little strange sometimes, though, with her particularly sentimental attachments to a variety of things and people. Who knows what she has decided this scarf means to her.]

Do you? Why's that?

Because...

[She starts to say something, but then something seems to come into her head and she stops, crushing her hands into the soft material of the scarf. Her eyes drift up toward the ceiling, her expression becoming tense.]

It's a secret!

[It is hard to know with her if he should be concerned or not, sometimes. He props his head up in his hand, elbow against the mattress, as he makes a show of being serious - which, maybe he is. Maybe he should be. She doesn't look happy about whatever this is about.]

I promise I won't tell anyone.

Hmmm...

[Even though this is Rosi, she still seems on the fence about it. But then she comes to a decision and nods, sitting up.]

Okay, but just because it's you.

[And, honestly, it would've ended up coming off eventually, even if she doesn't want to admit it. So Mary takes off the scarf, and the reason she was wearing it is pretty obvious right away: the finger-shaped bruises that circle around her neck. It looks like they've been healing, at least.]

[Worry becomes immediately evident on his face as she lets the scarf fall. He sits up fully, horrified - for how could someone do this to a child? What sort of monster-]

Who did this to you?

[Maybe that was the reaction she was worried about, because in a panic she immediately puts the scarf back on like she can erase the sight from his head.]

No, it's okay! See, all better!

[Haha...ha!]

No, it's not okay. Mary -

[Well, he doesn't want her to regret telling him. The fact she was willing is a good sign and helpful to maintaining her safety, especially if there's someone out there who would harm her. So he has to rein it in, to take a deep breath and frown but keep the flare of anger locked up for just a bit longer. His hand clenches in a blanket instead, turning the knuckles white.]

Does it hurt? Are you all right?

[Mary's shoulders sag. She buries her face into her scarf, humming to herself before she answers.]

Not as much anymore. It hurt really badly for awhile...but it helped me stay awake longer, too, when I needed to.

[All right? It's such a simple question, but it's so complex, as well. Is she okay, or has she just filed it away under some compartment or another so she wouldn't have to deal with the reality of what happened?]

I'm all right. It was just a game, so it's okay.

That doesn't look like a game, that looks scary. I don't want you to have to be afraid of anyone here.

[Meanwhile he runs through the people he's met and the deaths he spied. Does anyone strike him as likely to hurt a little girl? Not particularly, but he hadn't made it through every vision before even he got exhausted. Hasn't met everyone here yet either.

If she doesn't tell him, he'll work it out. Do some throttling of his own. Here, however, he reaches forward tentatively toward the scarf.]

Can I see? I just want to make sure it looks okay now.

[And possibly get a feel for the size of the bruises left by those hands, so as to place them to their owner, if at all possible.]

Okay...

[She's not of the mindset to suspect he'd be doing anything suspicious by looking, so she takes the scarf off again, her posture starting to read as...ashamed? Naturally, she didn't do anything wrong. But she wonders if he'd be less upset if she'd just won.]

A very nice lady found me when it happened and helped me. That made me feel better.

[He stops short of touching, instead looking the marks over carefully. They do seem like they're healing. A couple days old already, at least. Has he been so out of it in the last few days that he hadn't noticed?]

Oh? Who's that?

[Someone he can thank, but someone he can ask, too.]

Wanda! She said she'd even be my family if I wanted. Isn't that so nice?

[Her energy definitely shifts talking about that part; it's easy for Mary to forget about the things that hurt when she focuses on the things that excite her, instead.]

Wow, family, huh? That's really nice of her.

[Sounds like Mary's charmed another, then. She does it so easily. It's good - the more friends she has, the more people will be looking after her, especially when he's out exploring. He can't invest his heart in her any more than he has already allowed. Best to have others who can take care of her. Best for her to have others to cling to, so she isn't too upset when he's out trying to figure out what this place is and what it wants.]

I'll have to thank her for helping you.

[With the tablet because this heat is too much to go walking around in.]

Yeah, yeah! She kissed me, right here!

[She puts her fingers to her forehead.]

And I said I'd never gotten a kiss before, and she said that's what her Mother always did to make her feel better when she was sad. I didn't know something could feel so warm...I want to have the biggest and happiest family forever.

[There's a pang of sadness that he keeps locked up. Had his mother done anything like that? His memories of her are so fragmented, so small. He knows she loved him. The specifics have faded with time. More than anything he remembers her beautiful dresses and soft fabrics he was always clinging to like some kind of security blanket against the terrors of the world, until they swallowed her up and he had nothing left to hold onto.

But it seems Mary never even had that much to begin with. He reaches forward to place an overly large hand on her head and smooth down her hair, ruffled by the scarf.]

Sounds like you're on your way to it. We've just got one person, apparently, who doesn't agree. That person needs to apologize to you.

Apologize? Hee hee, it's okay!

[She's beaming beneath the affection from Rosi's big hand.]

Because I was playing, too!

[Something about that does not... seem right. Somehow.]

Playing shouldn't involve people getting hurt, though. You know that, right?

[She doesn't answer right away. The far-away look on her face is not the look of a child that understands what should surely be a simple fact. Nobody has ever taught her these things.]

We all hide such pretty color on the inside. Did you know?

[That takes him a second, but only because it's so unexpected. She does love red.

He really should have seen this coming. It's about par for the course with the kids he's dealt with. But those had all been drawn to his brother, who encouraged it. Rosinante just frowns.]

That color is blood, Mary. That's what keeps people alive. If you see that, it means you're hurting them a lot and that's not all right.

[Given what he's seen of her life before this place, it makes some actual sense that she might not understand this, but given those other children, he's not entirely optimistic that this is simply ignorance.]

[That's what keeps people alive. Mary looks at her hands. She turns them over like she's examining them, trying to understand something. Her odd, happy expression turns sad, the manic light fading from her eyes.]

Sometimes...I just feel so strange.

action; july 20th

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