[identity profile] docconstantine.livejournal.com

July 3rd, Friday night
Stumbling homewards along the bank of the river


I am not sure who is helping who to walk; Iago helping me or me helping Iago. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to grab him and take him over to La Fee Verte ... but he was mopey and it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Admittedly, I don't have the best track record with good ideas. We got drunk on absinthe. Then I thought it would cheer him up ever more, so we went to see the show at The Grindhouse. Then Daiyu happened. Before I could say 'boo', we were back in her trailer, chasing the dragon. What happened next is still rather fuzzy. I am pretty sure we didn't have sex, with either her or each other, but I am pretty sure we got a private viewing of her contortion act.

But now my head just hurts, and Iago's giggling madly and stumbling over his own feet, and I may just need to sleep this off.  Maybe I just want to get back inside....

Shake my head to make that crawling feeling go away.  I'm being silly, it's not like I am out alone, after all.  Iago is babbling something about his cousins, and I can't follow any of it.  "You are an absolute mess, do you know that?" I say, half sighing, half laughing. "Granted, I am an absolute mess too." We both stumble and barely keep each other from going down face first into the river.

"We are never telling Glass about this, right?"

(open to Iago and Marbas and Kaeli)

[identity profile] docconstantine.livejournal.com

July 3rd, Friday night
Stumbling homewards along the bank of the river


I am not sure who is helping who to walk; Iago helping me or me helping Iago. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to grab him and take him over to La Fee Verte ... but he was mopey and it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Admittedly, I don't have the best track record with good ideas. We got drunk on absinthe. Then I thought it would cheer him up ever more, so we went to see the show at The Grindhouse. Then Daiyu happened. Before I could say 'boo', we were back in her trailer, chasing the dragon. What happened next is still rather fuzzy. I am pretty sure we didn't have sex, with either her or each other, but I am pretty sure we got a private viewing of her contortion act.

But now my head just hurts, and Iago's giggling madly and stumbling over his own feet, and I may just need to sleep this off.  Maybe I just want to get back inside....

Shake my head to make that crawling feeling go away.  I'm being silly, it's not like I am out alone, after all.  Iago is babbling something about his cousins, and I can't follow any of it.  "You are an absolute mess, do you know that?" I say, half sighing, half laughing. "Granted, I am an absolute mess too." We both stumble and barely keep each other from going down face first into the river.

"We are never telling Glass about this, right?"

(open to Iago and Marbas and Kaeli)

[identity profile] al-shairan.livejournal.com
“The silence often of pure innocence persuades when speaking fails.”
- Shakespeare


Monday lunchtime, near the sheriff's office, on Main Street

This has proved almost too easy. The clouds are rolling in, air heavy with the promise of rain, and I stand in my Danika body wearing an old coat with the collar turned up against the cold, jacket short enough to show a few inches of a tidy, worn work dress and a calflength of wool stocking. My shoes wear the signs of good, honest farm labour, and my blonde hair is frizzing round my face in the damp air. I look very distressed.

"Did - was there really a man arrested for... for beating on a girl?" I say to an old woman gossiping with her friend on the street. My fingers flutter together anxiously.

"Oh yes," she says, "it's a horrible thing. They think also he did in a girl as worked at - well, the brothel, my dear," she says, lowering her voice over that salacious detail, eyes gleaming with prurient interest. "They think he chopped her up."

"Oh," I say, and I faint very neatly to the ground. It's not long before I have half a dozen people round me - offering water, saying they will take me to the Dormouse, fussing with my coat collar to let me breathe.

"I should've said something," I say, and I burst into tears. That gets me sat down on a bench, an old woman's arm around my shoulders, and a very handsome young man crouched at my feet. "I should - "

"What is is, dear? Do you know something about what happened to those girls?"

I shake my head tightly.

"I know - I know - him," I say quietly. "He - We went out a couple of times, and he was - he was real nice to me, and -" The old woman gives me a handkerchief. "You know, I ain't really dated much," I say, shamefaced, "cos my momma's sick a bunch and I'm busy out on the farm, and he just - he was real nice, and when he -" I turn my face away, and I can feel the vibrating tension from the boy at my feet, his desire to be a hero. "He - I thought it was my fault," I say, and then there is a furious chatter rising from the little crowd, and the conversation spreads in ripples.

"Some carnie's been carving up our girls," one man says fiercely. And there is discussion of me and of Melania - ah, yes, that explains some of what I saw in her - and how we're hard working girls, salt of the earth girls, and who is this monster and why hasn't he been strung up? What the hell is wrong with this town that a murderer and molester can be caught redhanded and he's cosseted in jail? And did you hear that he attacked that nice Mrs Beddau (I wonder if at any other time Glass has been described as nice) when she went to visit him in prison? He should be put in the old stocks in town. People would show him how they felt, alright. They'd show him very clearly indeed.

I manage a brave, trembling smile for the boy at my feet, and he springs up, ready for something, anything, if it will make me look at him like that again. And I nestle in against the arm of the old woman as the crowd grows larger and voices grow louder, and I wait for the storm to break.

[OPEN]
[identity profile] al-shairan.livejournal.com
“The silence often of pure innocence persuades when speaking fails.”
- Shakespeare


Monday lunchtime, near the sheriff's office, on Main Street

This has proved almost too easy. The clouds are rolling in, air heavy with the promise of rain, and I stand in my Danika body wearing an old coat with the collar turned up against the cold, jacket short enough to show a few inches of a tidy, worn work dress and a calflength of wool stocking. My shoes wear the signs of good, honest farm labour, and my blonde hair is frizzing round my face in the damp air. I look very distressed.

"Did - was there really a man arrested for... for beating on a girl?" I say to an old woman gossiping with her friend on the street. My fingers flutter together anxiously.

"Oh yes," she says, "it's a horrible thing. They think also he did in a girl as worked at - well, the brothel, my dear," she says, lowering her voice over that salacious detail, eyes gleaming with prurient interest. "They think he chopped her up."

"Oh," I say, and I faint very neatly to the ground. It's not long before I have half a dozen people round me - offering water, saying they will take me to the Dormouse, fussing with my coat collar to let me breathe.

"I should've said something," I say, and I burst into tears. That gets me sat down on a bench, an old woman's arm around my shoulders, and a very handsome young man crouched at my feet. "I should - "

"What is is, dear? Do you know something about what happened to those girls?"

I shake my head tightly.

"I know - I know - him," I say quietly. "He - We went out a couple of times, and he was - he was real nice to me, and -" The old woman gives me a handkerchief. "You know, I ain't really dated much," I say, shamefaced, "cos my momma's sick a bunch and I'm busy out on the farm, and he just - he was real nice, and when he -" I turn my face away, and I can feel the vibrating tension from the boy at my feet, his desire to be a hero. "He - I thought it was my fault," I say, and then there is a furious chatter rising from the little crowd, and the conversation spreads in ripples.

"Some carnie's been carving up our girls," one man says fiercely. And there is discussion of me and of Melania - ah, yes, that explains some of what I saw in her - and how we're hard working girls, salt of the earth girls, and who is this monster and why hasn't he been strung up? What the hell is wrong with this town that a murderer and molester can be caught redhanded and he's cosseted in jail? And did you hear that he attacked that nice Mrs Beddau (I wonder if at any other time Glass has been described as nice) when she went to visit him in prison? He should be put in the old stocks in town. People would show him how they felt, alright. They'd show him very clearly indeed.

I manage a brave, trembling smile for the boy at my feet, and he springs up, ready for something, anything, if it will make me look at him like that again. And I nestle in against the arm of the old woman as the crowd grows larger and voices grow louder, and I wait for the storm to break.

[OPEN]
[identity profile] cain-excolo.livejournal.com
Kaeli's Apartment
Mid-day, Friday, 25 December


I spent the rest of Christmas Eve preparing a gift for Kaeli. It took me quite some amount of thought to figure out what to craft and nearly as long to actually craft it. I finished it well after the sun set but in plenty of time to have enough sleep. Jewelry crafting has never been my strongest skill but I feel the piece, while simple, came out quite nicely.

I put on some of my nicest clothing-- dress pants, a suit jacket, and a white dress shirt-- but do not put on a tie. With my bulk, I usually look too stuffy in such things if I add a tie. I haven't worn one in ages and doubt that I even have one any longer. It is not often that I dress like this, anyway.

As I walk along Main Street, I wish those I pass a Merry Christmas. There is a general air of happiness and warmth even with the weather the way it is. That has oft been the case with Christmas. Generally, it brings people closer together. It reminds us all what it is to be happy around others. Granted, that would not be so for those in poor family situations-- and it is not money of which I refer.

I climb the stairs to the outside door of the apartment above the schoolhouse. Pausing for a moment, I take a deep breath. The peculiarity of this does not escape me. One might think that after all of my years of life I would have grown out of the nerves. Someone else could perhaps. I have not.

My knuckles rap against the door.

[OPEN to Kaeli]
[identity profile] cain-excolo.livejournal.com
Kaeli's Apartment
Mid-day, Friday, 25 December


I spent the rest of Christmas Eve preparing a gift for Kaeli. It took me quite some amount of thought to figure out what to craft and nearly as long to actually craft it. I finished it well after the sun set but in plenty of time to have enough sleep. Jewelry crafting has never been my strongest skill but I feel the piece, while simple, came out quite nicely.

I put on some of my nicest clothing-- dress pants, a suit jacket, and a white dress shirt-- but do not put on a tie. With my bulk, I usually look too stuffy in such things if I add a tie. I haven't worn one in ages and doubt that I even have one any longer. It is not often that I dress like this, anyway.

As I walk along Main Street, I wish those I pass a Merry Christmas. There is a general air of happiness and warmth even with the weather the way it is. That has oft been the case with Christmas. Generally, it brings people closer together. It reminds us all what it is to be happy around others. Granted, that would not be so for those in poor family situations-- and it is not money of which I refer.

I climb the stairs to the outside door of the apartment above the schoolhouse. Pausing for a moment, I take a deep breath. The peculiarity of this does not escape me. One might think that after all of my years of life I would have grown out of the nerves. Someone else could perhaps. I have not.

My knuckles rap against the door.

[OPEN to Kaeli]
[identity profile] valmont-vicomte.livejournal.com
Early evening; walking to Kaeli's house

Spending a pleasant evening at the Tavern made me think that I should be socialising more. It's true that every night I am in the Whitechapel's bar, but although that is fun it is also my job. Whilst I don't regret all the time I am spending with Hermia or Alice, either - it's like having my own little family, and I like it a great deal - I have been a little lax in keeping in touch with my friends lately. Edmund has been very busy, too, which explains why we haven't caught up, and I have felt a little strange around Karina after that awkward evening a few weeks ago. But I have no good reason for not having seen Kaeli, and I mean to change that now.

Of course I've seen her, and my other friends, around town - Excolo's so small that I run into people I know every day - but there's a difference between saying hello as I see someone at the general store and actually catching up. When Lugh died I asked Nohte to make up a basket of white roses for Kaeli - sober but not funereal - and send them to her. I knew Lugh and Kaeli had been involved, but I think they had fallen out. In any case, I thought the flowers wouldn't go amiss. I would have called on her, but all the business with Gaueko and Alice distracted me. Which isn't, I suppose, a great excuse. I notice I feel guiltier these days for letting people down. I think it's another of the improvements that loving someone has brought to me.

I pop by the bakery, hoping I might see Edmund, but instead his apprentice is there and sells me a vanilla cheesecake. I take that over and knock on Kaeli's door. A light is on, so I hope she is home.

[open to Kaeli]
[identity profile] valmont-vicomte.livejournal.com
Early evening; walking to Kaeli's house

Spending a pleasant evening at the Tavern made me think that I should be socialising more. It's true that every night I am in the Whitechapel's bar, but although that is fun it is also my job. Whilst I don't regret all the time I am spending with Hermia or Alice, either - it's like having my own little family, and I like it a great deal - I have been a little lax in keeping in touch with my friends lately. Edmund has been very busy, too, which explains why we haven't caught up, and I have felt a little strange around Karina after that awkward evening a few weeks ago. But I have no good reason for not having seen Kaeli, and I mean to change that now.

Of course I've seen her, and my other friends, around town - Excolo's so small that I run into people I know every day - but there's a difference between saying hello as I see someone at the general store and actually catching up. When Lugh died I asked Nohte to make up a basket of white roses for Kaeli - sober but not funereal - and send them to her. I knew Lugh and Kaeli had been involved, but I think they had fallen out. In any case, I thought the flowers wouldn't go amiss. I would have called on her, but all the business with Gaueko and Alice distracted me. Which isn't, I suppose, a great excuse. I notice I feel guiltier these days for letting people down. I think it's another of the improvements that loving someone has brought to me.

I pop by the bakery, hoping I might see Edmund, but instead his apprentice is there and sells me a vanilla cheesecake. I take that over and knock on Kaeli's door. A light is on, so I hope she is home.

[open to Kaeli]
[identity profile] kaeli-whyte.livejournal.com
Sunday November 22nd
Day 175
Afternoon



Seeing him busy talking to someone in the congregation, I wave to Laurence, and leave the church. His sermon today was nice, leaning more towards the teachings of Jesus, loving and caring for each other instead of the ones with fire and brimstone and smiting. I can't say I much enjoy the ones about smiting. Even though the church reminds me of the last time I saw Lúgh, I still try to come every couple of weeks to learn and show him my support. I go to the Abbey the other two weeks of the month.

Wanda told me what happened that night Lúgh died, and at first I was angry, not at her, but at him. He knew what might happen and because he lied. But then when the anger passed, all I could do was cry. Even in class, I'd hear or see something that reminded me of him and I'd smile. Then I'd have to excuse myself and leave the room, feeling my eyes burn with tears. I know what he did was out of love and to do good, but why does it have to result in death? I saw Lucien before it happened, I saw the sadness and the horrible state he was in. I haven't been able to bring myself to see him since. Its not that I blame him, but I'm scared that seeing him might be more of a reminder than I can take.

I haven't used my powers since Lúgh died, I don't want to. Two that I loved gone in less than a month. and me with this power, I couldn't do a single thing except feel them go and feel the emptiness that's left in their place. Whats the use? When I get to the school house I don't feel much like company so instead of sitting out front, I go around back to the playground and sit in the swing. Though the air is cool, the sun is out and I don't mind. Even the sun does little for the chill inside me that took hold the night Lúgh died. Except for that one night not long ago when I woke up crying and feverish after dreaming of a beautiful, bright, warm, light, nothing has much of an affect. I can't even drink whiskey without it reminding me of him. As I swing, I'm relieved as my thoughts shift to a safer topic, the upcoming school tests. Not fun, but with all of the new students, its a good way to check progress and see where everyone is at. Leaning my head against the rope, I think of the test and what questions I'll ask.

[OPEN TO MARBAS] [CLOSED]
[identity profile] kaeli-whyte.livejournal.com
Sunday November 22nd
Day 175
Afternoon



Seeing him busy talking to someone in the congregation, I wave to Laurence, and leave the church. His sermon today was nice, leaning more towards the teachings of Jesus, loving and caring for each other instead of the ones with fire and brimstone and smiting. I can't say I much enjoy the ones about smiting. Even though the church reminds me of the last time I saw Lúgh, I still try to come every couple of weeks to learn and show him my support. I go to the Abbey the other two weeks of the month.

Wanda told me what happened that night Lúgh died, and at first I was angry, not at her, but at him. He knew what might happen and because he lied. But then when the anger passed, all I could do was cry. Even in class, I'd hear or see something that reminded me of him and I'd smile. Then I'd have to excuse myself and leave the room, feeling my eyes burn with tears. I know what he did was out of love and to do good, but why does it have to result in death? I saw Lucien before it happened, I saw the sadness and the horrible state he was in. I haven't been able to bring myself to see him since. Its not that I blame him, but I'm scared that seeing him might be more of a reminder than I can take.

I haven't used my powers since Lúgh died, I don't want to. Two that I loved gone in less than a month. and me with this power, I couldn't do a single thing except feel them go and feel the emptiness that's left in their place. Whats the use? When I get to the school house I don't feel much like company so instead of sitting out front, I go around back to the playground and sit in the swing. Though the air is cool, the sun is out and I don't mind. Even the sun does little for the chill inside me that took hold the night Lúgh died. Except for that one night not long ago when I woke up crying and feverish after dreaming of a beautiful, bright, warm, light, nothing has much of an affect. I can't even drink whiskey without it reminding me of him. As I swing, I'm relieved as my thoughts shift to a safer topic, the upcoming school tests. Not fun, but with all of the new students, its a good way to check progress and see where everyone is at. Leaning my head against the rope, I think of the test and what questions I'll ask.

[OPEN TO MARBAS] [CLOSED]
[identity profile] brotherlaurence.livejournal.com
1Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the desert, 2where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing during those days, and at the end of them he was hungry.

3The devil said to him, "If you are the Son of God, tell this stone to become bread."

4Jesus answered, "It is written: 'Man does not live on bread alone.'"

5The devil led him up to a high place and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. 6And he said to him, "I will give you all their authority and splendor, for it has been given to me, and I can give it to anyone I want to. 7So if you worship me, it will all be yours."

8Jesus answered, "It is written: 'Worship the Lord your God and serve him only.'"

9The devil led him to Jerusalem and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. "If you are the Son of God," he said, "throw yourself down from here. 10For it is written:
" 'He will command his angels concerning you
to guard you carefully;
11they will lift you up in their hands,
so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.'"


12Jesus answered, "It says: 'Do not put the Lord your God to the test.'"

13When the devil had finished all this tempting, he left him until an opportune time. (Luke 4:1-13 NIV)



There is a good amount of people here. The room does not overflow, but every seat is filled. I do not know that the topic of my sermon has converted anyone, but I have hope that it will at least give some second thoughts about dealing with the Thing in the Tower and the others who walk among us.

I finish with a prayer that I lead us all in, giving thanks and asking for protection and leadership. I also pray for the Reaves family, and the Marks family as well. When I am done and I lift my head, I give everyone a smile.

"Thank you all again for coming. You are more than welcome to stay and partake in a meal with us." I motion to the table that Cain and Kaeli helped me set up. Then I step from the pulpit and move into the crowd, shaking hands and giving smiles to those who reach out to me in congratulations or something. But this is not about me. I hope that they realize that. The Wilsons are here, I notice and give them a smile. They begin to make a beeline for me and I brace myself, hoping I can find someone else to talk to before Amanda is thrust upon me again.


[OPEN.]
[identity profile] brotherlaurence.livejournal.com
1Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the desert, 2where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing during those days, and at the end of them he was hungry.

3The devil said to him, "If you are the Son of God, tell this stone to become bread."

4Jesus answered, "It is written: 'Man does not live on bread alone.'"

5The devil led him up to a high place and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. 6And he said to him, "I will give you all their authority and splendor, for it has been given to me, and I can give it to anyone I want to. 7So if you worship me, it will all be yours."

8Jesus answered, "It is written: 'Worship the Lord your God and serve him only.'"

9The devil led him to Jerusalem and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. "If you are the Son of God," he said, "throw yourself down from here. 10For it is written:
" 'He will command his angels concerning you
to guard you carefully;
11they will lift you up in their hands,
so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.'"


12Jesus answered, "It says: 'Do not put the Lord your God to the test.'"

13When the devil had finished all this tempting, he left him until an opportune time. (Luke 4:1-13 NIV)



There is a good amount of people here. The room does not overflow, but every seat is filled. I do not know that the topic of my sermon has converted anyone, but I have hope that it will at least give some second thoughts about dealing with the Thing in the Tower and the others who walk among us.

I finish with a prayer that I lead us all in, giving thanks and asking for protection and leadership. I also pray for the Reaves family, and the Marks family as well. When I am done and I lift my head, I give everyone a smile.

"Thank you all again for coming. You are more than welcome to stay and partake in a meal with us." I motion to the table that Cain and Kaeli helped me set up. Then I step from the pulpit and move into the crowd, shaking hands and giving smiles to those who reach out to me in congratulations or something. But this is not about me. I hope that they realize that. The Wilsons are here, I notice and give them a smile. They begin to make a beeline for me and I brace myself, hoping I can find someone else to talk to before Amanda is thrust upon me again.


[OPEN.]
[identity profile] kaeli-whyte.livejournal.com
Wednesday October 14th
Day 136
Early evening


Spending the day with Cain helped. His quiet sort of calm always does. But the one thing it couldn’t do is settle some of the questions in my mind and the dull ache in my heart at not saying goodbye. I wish I knew her better, I wish I went to visit like I had planned. In most ways we were different, opposite, but even before the accident there was an understanding between us that I’ve not found with anyone else. An acceptance. And even love.

I stop by the flower shop to buy a single long stemmed red rose, and by the time I leave, I’ve bought two. The passing of a god, even one such as him, should not go unmarked, or unmourned.

My walk is spent in silence. I remember when I met her and how much I feared her then, and I remember the things she said in the park when I felt lost and desperately needed someone to understand, a friend. I remember the things she taught me, even though I had forgotten them until just now, and I remember the things she showed me.

There is nothing left of the house but smoldering ash. Now that I’m here, I can feel them both and my eyes burn, welling with tears once again. I want to be angry and say ‘what a waste’, and in some ways maybe it is, but I know enough of her to know it doesn’t matter how it started, with her nothing was ever wasted. Not even death.

I know it’s selfish, but I still can’t help but feel sad that we’ll never talk, or laugh or hold hands again. And I’m sorry I forgot what you showed me, and forgot what you said. I stay until the darkness and fear and pain threaten to overwhelm me. And then I stay just a little more, until I have my answer. Buried underneath it all, there is relief and her acceptance and a quiet peace. And there’s hope too.

I take the ribbon from my hair and tie the roses together, tossing them on the glowing pile. Then I slip my shoes off and toss them in too. Tears still streak my cheeks, but I smile when I think of how odd those shoes laying there might seem, but I know she’ll understand, just like she always did. And when my feet touch the cool grass tonight as I dance under the sky, I know she’ll understand that too.

I promise, Anushka, I promise I won’t forget again.

[CLOSED]
[identity profile] kaeli-whyte.livejournal.com
Wednesday October 14th
Day 136
Early evening


Spending the day with Cain helped. His quiet sort of calm always does. But the one thing it couldn’t do is settle some of the questions in my mind and the dull ache in my heart at not saying goodbye. I wish I knew her better, I wish I went to visit like I had planned. In most ways we were different, opposite, but even before the accident there was an understanding between us that I’ve not found with anyone else. An acceptance. And even love.

I stop by the flower shop to buy a single long stemmed red rose, and by the time I leave, I’ve bought two. The passing of a god, even one such as him, should not go unmarked, or unmourned.

My walk is spent in silence. I remember when I met her and how much I feared her then, and I remember the things she said in the park when I felt lost and desperately needed someone to understand, a friend. I remember the things she taught me, even though I had forgotten them until just now, and I remember the things she showed me.

There is nothing left of the house but smoldering ash. Now that I’m here, I can feel them both and my eyes burn, welling with tears once again. I want to be angry and say ‘what a waste’, and in some ways maybe it is, but I know enough of her to know it doesn’t matter how it started, with her nothing was ever wasted. Not even death.

I know it’s selfish, but I still can’t help but feel sad that we’ll never talk, or laugh or hold hands again. And I’m sorry I forgot what you showed me, and forgot what you said. I stay until the darkness and fear and pain threaten to overwhelm me. And then I stay just a little more, until I have my answer. Buried underneath it all, there is relief and her acceptance and a quiet peace. And there’s hope too.

I take the ribbon from my hair and tie the roses together, tossing them on the glowing pile. Then I slip my shoes off and toss them in too. Tears still streak my cheeks, but I smile when I think of how odd those shoes laying there might seem, but I know she’ll understand, just like she always did. And when my feet touch the cool grass tonight as I dance under the sky, I know she’ll understand that too.

I promise, Anushka, I promise I won’t forget again.

[CLOSED]
[identity profile] kaeli-whyte.livejournal.com
Wednesday, October 14th, Mid morning

It started shortly after I woke, it started with feelings I couldn’t dismiss or close away. Feelings of determination and fear with relief mixed in. Something to do, but I didn’t know what. I was afraid but I couldn’t say why and underneath it all, I was at ease. For a moment I thought, this is it, Lúgh's doing it, its happening today. But then the children arrived and it all faded, drowned away by happiness, songs and play.

And then I thought maybe I was wrong, today wasn’t the day. We were on our first break mid morning when it started again and that’s when Beth, my teachers aid ran in, talking about smoke billowing up from the direction of the Voronin estate. I hadn’t made it out the door when it hit me like a shockwave, almost knocking me to knees, she was gone. Anushka was gone.

After dismissing the class early I go upstairs and sit on the couch, stunned and empty, just staring around my apartment as if its not mine. Tears blurring my vision and burning my eyes as I remember when I met her in the park, thinking there is at least one who understands, and then when I found out I would never have children, how she took my hand, my own sadness reflected in her eyes. She was more than most knew, they just couldn’t see.

Footsteps sound on the stairs, and I pull my eyes away from the room to look into Cains, “I already know. She’s gone,” I say flatly, feeling tears sting my eyes again before I push them away.

[OPEN TO CAIN]    [CLOSED]
[identity profile] kaeli-whyte.livejournal.com
Wednesday, October 14th, Mid morning

It started shortly after I woke, it started with feelings I couldn’t dismiss or close away. Feelings of determination and fear with relief mixed in. Something to do, but I didn’t know what. I was afraid but I couldn’t say why and underneath it all, I was at ease. For a moment I thought, this is it, Lúgh's doing it, its happening today. But then the children arrived and it all faded, drowned away by happiness, songs and play.

And then I thought maybe I was wrong, today wasn’t the day. We were on our first break mid morning when it started again and that’s when Beth, my teachers aid ran in, talking about smoke billowing up from the direction of the Voronin estate. I hadn’t made it out the door when it hit me like a shockwave, almost knocking me to knees, she was gone. Anushka was gone.

After dismissing the class early I go upstairs and sit on the couch, stunned and empty, just staring around my apartment as if its not mine. Tears blurring my vision and burning my eyes as I remember when I met her in the park, thinking there is at least one who understands, and then when I found out I would never have children, how she took my hand, my own sadness reflected in her eyes. She was more than most knew, they just couldn’t see.

Footsteps sound on the stairs, and I pull my eyes away from the room to look into Cains, “I already know. She’s gone,” I say flatly, feeling tears sting my eyes again before I push them away.

[OPEN TO CAIN]    [CLOSED]
[identity profile] kaeli-whyte.livejournal.com
Sunday, October 11th
Day 133
Evening


The week has seemed to drag by at an incredibly slow pace, and the news Cain brought didn’t help it much. That was the second time I’d heard the name Lilith and he seemed a little surprised that I had heard of her at all, though I didn't say from where. Just the thought of what she did to poor Laurence makes my skin crawl and now I’m even more worried for Lúgh than I was before. I know how Marbas feels about her; I felt it, a fierce almost devouring love, and there’s Lúgh right there in the middle, determined to help Lucien and set him free. That thought also makes my skin crawl in a different sort of way, one that makes hairs and goosebumbs rise on my skin.

Nothing like waiting for the other shoe to drop, to make time creep by.

I didn’t expect to hear from Lucien so soon, but I have been thinking about him a lot, still hoping that somehow he’ll manage to make it out okay. Maybe he’ll actually be happy in the end, one can hope, right? To take my mind off everything, I decide to do what usually seems to help, cook. But when I go to get my casserole dish and it’s not where it should be, it takes me a minute to remember where I left it…at Lucien’s office. I really don’t want to bother him again, but it’s the only one I have and I did tell him I would come back to get it.

Looking down at my rumpled skirt and dusty shirt, I consider changing before running over there. But I’m not planning on staying, and I’m sure right now Lucien could care less that I’ve been cleaning all day and look like it. I doubt he'll even notice at all.

As I walk up to the door, it doesn’t actually look like anyone is there at all, which I guess isn’t surprising since its Sunday evening. But as I reach the door, I see a dim light coming from somewhere in the building and the sign for the new doctor indicates he should be in. From what little I’ve heard from the chatter in town, aside from the odd hours he keeps, they all seem to think he’s nice. I think helpful was used a time or two, as well as trustworthy, handsome, and nice. Actually, thinking about it, the word nice was used quite a bit. I guess he made an impression. Well, at least I know someone’s here, so I open the door and step inside, calling out a soft, “Hello?” and then wince slightly when my voice echoes down the hall. I didn’t mean for it to be that loud, I just don’t to sneak up on anyone either. I know Tez was staying here too and between him and Lucien, that could turn into a mess really fast. I’d rather not be that kind of mess if I can help it. I seem to have the other kinds cover well enough as it is. I spot my dish sitting on the edge of the desk in the main office and head towards it, calling out again, "I'm just here to grab my dish and I've got it, so I'll be on my way," I say, a little quieter than before. I'm actually relieved when I don't hear any movement. Either they didn't hear me or what I said was enough to alleviate the need for any unnecessary interruptions, so I pick up my dish and turn to go.

[OPEN TO LOKAN]  [CLOSED]
[identity profile] kaeli-whyte.livejournal.com
Sunday, October 11th
Day 133
Evening


The week has seemed to drag by at an incredibly slow pace, and the news Cain brought didn’t help it much. That was the second time I’d heard the name Lilith and he seemed a little surprised that I had heard of her at all, though I didn't say from where. Just the thought of what she did to poor Laurence makes my skin crawl and now I’m even more worried for Lúgh than I was before. I know how Marbas feels about her; I felt it, a fierce almost devouring love, and there’s Lúgh right there in the middle, determined to help Lucien and set him free. That thought also makes my skin crawl in a different sort of way, one that makes hairs and goosebumbs rise on my skin.

Nothing like waiting for the other shoe to drop, to make time creep by.

I didn’t expect to hear from Lucien so soon, but I have been thinking about him a lot, still hoping that somehow he’ll manage to make it out okay. Maybe he’ll actually be happy in the end, one can hope, right? To take my mind off everything, I decide to do what usually seems to help, cook. But when I go to get my casserole dish and it’s not where it should be, it takes me a minute to remember where I left it…at Lucien’s office. I really don’t want to bother him again, but it’s the only one I have and I did tell him I would come back to get it.

Looking down at my rumpled skirt and dusty shirt, I consider changing before running over there. But I’m not planning on staying, and I’m sure right now Lucien could care less that I’ve been cleaning all day and look like it. I doubt he'll even notice at all.

As I walk up to the door, it doesn’t actually look like anyone is there at all, which I guess isn’t surprising since its Sunday evening. But as I reach the door, I see a dim light coming from somewhere in the building and the sign for the new doctor indicates he should be in. From what little I’ve heard from the chatter in town, aside from the odd hours he keeps, they all seem to think he’s nice. I think helpful was used a time or two, as well as trustworthy, handsome, and nice. Actually, thinking about it, the word nice was used quite a bit. I guess he made an impression. Well, at least I know someone’s here, so I open the door and step inside, calling out a soft, “Hello?” and then wince slightly when my voice echoes down the hall. I didn’t mean for it to be that loud, I just don’t to sneak up on anyone either. I know Tez was staying here too and between him and Lucien, that could turn into a mess really fast. I’d rather not be that kind of mess if I can help it. I seem to have the other kinds cover well enough as it is. I spot my dish sitting on the edge of the desk in the main office and head towards it, calling out again, "I'm just here to grab my dish and I've got it, so I'll be on my way," I say, a little quieter than before. I'm actually relieved when I don't hear any movement. Either they didn't hear me or what I said was enough to alleviate the need for any unnecessary interruptions, so I pick up my dish and turn to go.

[OPEN TO LOKAN]  [CLOSED]
[identity profile] docconstantine.livejournal.com
(Monday, October 5th, early evening)
(Doctors office)


I am almost caught up on my paperworks and files.  Amazing what one can do when faced with numerous hours of loneliness and regret.  

I have to admit I was floored when Wanda came flouncing through the door.  I was beginning to think she had forgotten about me.  She should.  Hell, I don't even want to deal with me, how can i blame her for avoiding me?  Still, I was thrilled when she came and found me.  Even though I could feel the trepidation rolling off of her, and it nearly killed me when she slid off of me, fear causing her to tremble...
she came to find me.

We're not good.  But we're not over either, not yet.  Not ever if I can help it.

Sit at the desk in the front office, the quiet a welcome friend, and stare off into space as I twirl a pen between my fingers, wondering what I could possibly do to make things better.   I think about conversations.... I wonder if I could re-negotiate....

(closed)
[identity profile] docconstantine.livejournal.com
(Monday, October 5th, early evening)
(Doctors office)


I am almost caught up on my paperworks and files.  Amazing what one can do when faced with numerous hours of loneliness and regret.  

I have to admit I was floored when Wanda came flouncing through the door.  I was beginning to think she had forgotten about me.  She should.  Hell, I don't even want to deal with me, how can i blame her for avoiding me?  Still, I was thrilled when she came and found me.  Even though I could feel the trepidation rolling off of her, and it nearly killed me when she slid off of me, fear causing her to tremble...
she came to find me.

We're not good.  But we're not over either, not yet.  Not ever if I can help it.

Sit at the desk in the front office, the quiet a welcome friend, and stare off into space as I twirl a pen between my fingers, wondering what I could possibly do to make things better.   I think about conversations.... I wonder if I could re-negotiate....

(closed)

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