For a while, Pepper just cried. Cait didn't do anything about that. She knew the power of a good cry, after all.
In terms of raw occult energy, that sort of emotional breakdown could be used to power a number of things. In terms of components, the tears of a fragmented god could probably be used for at least a dozen spells.
In terms of friendship, it was best not to mention any of that, and just hold Pepper for as long as she needed it, and let her have her cry. Death was a weird thing. Cait would have liked to have said that she'd made her peace with it - she was part of a surface team, after all. Any of them could die at any moment, and given the things they ran into on a regular basis, making it to the point of dying of old age was statistically unlikely. Of course, if she'd really been comfortable with the idea, maybe she wouldn't have been so interested in the idea of figuring out resurrections.
Maybe that was just the challenge, though. Something that wasn't supposed to be done. Something that maybe shouldn't be done. Cait was bad at being told no. She tended to take it as an invitation to prove someone wrong.
Or maybe it was that she got a little bit of where Pepper was coming from. She'd found her people, and she didn't want to let them go. She might not be able to do anything about that, and probably couldn't, but the feeling was still there. So she understood at least a little bit of all of this, enough to stay where she was and hold Pepper tight and say nothing at all, because nothing was the right thing to say, at least until Pepper got it out.
"Little better?" she inquired, softly, once it seemed to have wound down. "Here." Her hand slipped into one of her pockets, retrieving a handkerchief and handing it over. Being Cait, of course it was black, but she'd found that hid eyeliner smudges better anyway. It shouldn't have been able to fit in her pocket, given the constraints of women's fashion and the traditional chapstick and a quarter sized pockets that came with them, but Cait had figured out a pocket-dimension spell by the time she was fifteen.
"It'll be okay, Pepper. Maybe it won't be the way you thought it would be or hoped it would be - it'll be different, but it'll be okay. You'll find your way."
In terms of raw occult energy, that sort of emotional breakdown could be used to power a number of things. In terms of components, the tears of a fragmented god could probably be used for at least a dozen spells.
In terms of friendship, it was best not to mention any of that, and just hold Pepper for as long as she needed it, and let her have her cry. Death was a weird thing. Cait would have liked to have said that she'd made her peace with it - she was part of a surface team, after all. Any of them could die at any moment, and given the things they ran into on a regular basis, making it to the point of dying of old age was statistically unlikely. Of course, if she'd really been comfortable with the idea, maybe she wouldn't have been so interested in the idea of figuring out resurrections.
Maybe that was just the challenge, though. Something that wasn't supposed to be done. Something that maybe shouldn't be done. Cait was bad at being told no. She tended to take it as an invitation to prove someone wrong.
Or maybe it was that she got a little bit of where Pepper was coming from. She'd found her people, and she didn't want to let them go. She might not be able to do anything about that, and probably couldn't, but the feeling was still there. So she understood at least a little bit of all of this, enough to stay where she was and hold Pepper tight and say nothing at all, because nothing was the right thing to say, at least until Pepper got it out.
"Little better?" she inquired, softly, once it seemed to have wound down. "Here." Her hand slipped into one of her pockets, retrieving a handkerchief and handing it over. Being Cait, of course it was black, but she'd found that hid eyeliner smudges better anyway. It shouldn't have been able to fit in her pocket, given the constraints of women's fashion and the traditional chapstick and a quarter sized pockets that came with them, but Cait had figured out a pocket-dimension spell by the time she was fifteen.
"It'll be okay, Pepper. Maybe it won't be the way you thought it would be or hoped it would be - it'll be different, but it'll be okay. You'll find your way."
Last edited: