"This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation."

[shards-of-alice.livejournal.com]

[Monday, January 4th (Day 218)]
[Mid-Morning - Apartments above the Whitechapel]

It’s a very strange sort of day and it only started just now. I can’t say how I know it’s strange, not just yet, besides the way the sun’s coming through the window, dust bits dancing along the beams, or the funny kind of hum in the air. It’s a day that’s expecting something, a day waiting on the front porch for Daddy to come home, eyes far off and away towards the end of the road and watching for the first sign of horses kicking up dirt. I can’t say it’s something big, not big big really, but its something.

There’s warm clothes on my back, warm breakfast in my belly, and all of that’s nice enough because it’s still so cold outside. Winter was fun at first, when it was all snowmen and breath solid, dancing in front of my face as I ran in the yard. I think I want it to go away now, though. Fruit that’s gone rotten, nice and crisp then sweet as it ripens and now soft with flies.

I play in my room for a long while, the dolls that Hermia gave me telling me all sorts of stories as I dance them around, until that goes soft too. Everything today, everything now, it’s been here too long and I don’t like it much anymore. I leave the dolls on the floor, they are napping there I like to think, and wander out into the hall.

Not the big man’s room, I know I shouldn’t do that, even if I‘m still standing there, hand on the closed door and head resting on the frame. It’s daytime and he’s sleeping and even if that’s odd, I don’t think it’s wrong. The big man, he’s the sort that can do what he wants, without being wrong. Even sleeping when the sun is up.

My name’s in the air after a good stretch, with my feet aching and my hand not moving at all. Alice, Alice, through the whole place and coming to me. It pulls me back - later, later - and I run off after it, my name, until I’m in the apartments, through the living room and after Valmont. “Yes?” I call out, breath trying to catch up with all that running.

[Open to Valmont and Westin]

"This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation."

[shards-of-alice.livejournal.com]

[Monday, January 4th (Day 218)]
[Mid-Morning - Apartments above the Whitechapel]

It’s a very strange sort of day and it only started just now. I can’t say how I know it’s strange, not just yet, besides the way the sun’s coming through the window, dust bits dancing along the beams, or the funny kind of hum in the air. It’s a day that’s expecting something, a day waiting on the front porch for Daddy to come home, eyes far off and away towards the end of the road and watching for the first sign of horses kicking up dirt. I can’t say it’s something big, not big big really, but its something.

There’s warm clothes on my back, warm breakfast in my belly, and all of that’s nice enough because it’s still so cold outside. Winter was fun at first, when it was all snowmen and breath solid, dancing in front of my face as I ran in the yard. I think I want it to go away now, though. Fruit that’s gone rotten, nice and crisp then sweet as it ripens and now soft with flies.

I play in my room for a long while, the dolls that Hermia gave me telling me all sorts of stories as I dance them around, until that goes soft too. Everything today, everything now, it’s been here too long and I don’t like it much anymore. I leave the dolls on the floor, they are napping there I like to think, and wander out into the hall.

Not the big man’s room, I know I shouldn’t do that, even if I‘m still standing there, hand on the closed door and head resting on the frame. It’s daytime and he’s sleeping and even if that’s odd, I don’t think it’s wrong. The big man, he’s the sort that can do what he wants, without being wrong. Even sleeping when the sun is up.

My name’s in the air after a good stretch, with my feet aching and my hand not moving at all. Alice, Alice, through the whole place and coming to me. It pulls me back - later, later - and I run off after it, my name, until I’m in the apartments, through the living room and after Valmont. “Yes?” I call out, breath trying to catch up with all that running.

[Open to Valmont and Westin]

Take a lesson from these autumn leaves; they waste no time waiting for the snow.

[lei-miao-shan.livejournal.com]

[Late afternoon, Monday, January 4th, day 218]
[Follow Me Boy]


The day has finally come. I wish so very much that I could say that I was ready...and I wish even more that this was not necessary at all. It seems such a terribly irony that not so long ago I dressed the house in the trappings on a funeral for Wanda...and just as they are to come down....this occurs. And the cloths are cast over the mirrors, the gong set outside the door, the red silk veiling my goddesses...only this time there shall be a coffin to shield them from.

Struck on the head. Hung by her ankles. Boiled. Carved. Possibly cooked. Oh, Vale. Oh, I can hardly bear to think of it. Poor Vale, so silly and so sweet, so kind to her clients and eager to talk about her day with me. The kind of girl destined to meet a wealthy gentleman, to be invited into his household, be pampered and cared for and eventually sent away with enough "gifts" to last a lifetime. Not this. Poor, poor Vale. She was with us but a short time, but we will do our best for her. She deserved that much.

I dress in white again, the lack of colour a symbol of the presence of death in the house. The coffin is downstairs, in what would normally be the parlour. Glass and Lucien brought it...and Vale...here earlier today. We are closed for today, but I put out an announcement in the town that anyone who wished to pay their respects was welcome. Tomorrow morning poor, dear Vale will be placed in a crypt to wait for the ground to thaw.

I sigh, slipping an ivory comb into my hair before standing and moving to the stairs. Folk will be arriving soon, and I must be there to greet them.

[OPEN to those who wish to pay their respects]

Take a lesson from these autumn leaves; they waste no time waiting for the snow.

[lei-miao-shan.livejournal.com]

[Late afternoon, Monday, January 4th, day 218]
[Follow Me Boy]


The day has finally come. I wish so very much that I could say that I was ready...and I wish even more that this was not necessary at all. It seems such a terribly irony that not so long ago I dressed the house in the trappings on a funeral for Wanda...and just as they are to come down....this occurs. And the cloths are cast over the mirrors, the gong set outside the door, the red silk veiling my goddesses...only this time there shall be a coffin to shield them from.

Struck on the head. Hung by her ankles. Boiled. Carved. Possibly cooked. Oh, Vale. Oh, I can hardly bear to think of it. Poor Vale, so silly and so sweet, so kind to her clients and eager to talk about her day with me. The kind of girl destined to meet a wealthy gentleman, to be invited into his household, be pampered and cared for and eventually sent away with enough "gifts" to last a lifetime. Not this. Poor, poor Vale. She was with us but a short time, but we will do our best for her. She deserved that much.

I dress in white again, the lack of colour a symbol of the presence of death in the house. The coffin is downstairs, in what would normally be the parlour. Glass and Lucien brought it...and Vale...here earlier today. We are closed for today, but I put out an announcement in the town that anyone who wished to pay their respects was welcome. Tomorrow morning poor, dear Vale will be placed in a crypt to wait for the ground to thaw.

I sigh, slipping an ivory comb into my hair before standing and moving to the stairs. Folk will be arriving soon, and I must be there to greet them.

[OPEN to those who wish to pay their respects]