As the children laugh

[shards-of-alice.livejournal.com]

[Saturday, June 19th (day 384)]
[Late into the night, the Whitechapel and beyond]

I'm awake.  I shouldn't be, I know, it's pretty late now and the world's asleep.  But the stars, the stars are singing, and I'm humming when I should be sleeping.  There are pictures in my head, too, to keep me awake.  I would try to shake them away, I would try to pay attention to going to sleep, to doing like I should, but I don't.  

It's a game, closing my eyes and making up all sorts of things.  Like dreaming, but not as scary because I'm in charge of what happens.  My new favorites are the ones with ships.  I've never been on a ship or seen a castle or anything like that, but there are pictures on the fronts of the books that I'm learning to read.  And oh the adventures that live inside.

My stories are never exactly like the books, though.  I don't really know what a princess is, or why she's gotta be saved all the time, and sometimes people just seem to wanna fight each other over silly things, but there are parts I like.  I take those parts and mix them up and that's where my stories come from.

Tonight, though, I can't seem to find anything I like.  I think and I think and everything just says no, that's very boring, we've heard that one before.  A world of no and I'm finally sitting up with a sigh.  Maybe that's the problem, yes.  Maybe that's what the stars are singing about, why I feel so fidgety and itchy in my skin.

Maybe the time for stories is over.

I find my shoes, because Valmont'll get sore if I'm out barefoot, and my robe, because it might be cold out, but I don't put anything on until I've tiptoed down the stairs, just as quiet as can be we are, and I'm out back.  It is chilly, so it's nice I remembered the robe.  I slip into the stables, and it's all hay smell and whatever nice things horses dream about, floating in the air.  I'm just as quiet as before, up to the room above.

It's dark, everywhere's dark, but I can see okay if I pay attention, and when I can't see so well, I feel around until I know where I am.  I don't need to see, anyway, to know Micah's there.  I can just feel him there, sleeping.  It's a nice peaceful sort of feel.  And then I crouch down beside him, hand on his shoulder.  "Micah," I whisper, starting to grin a little.  "Wanna go on an adventure?"

[Open to Tez, and later Gaueko]
[Closed and continued here.

As the children laugh

[shards-of-alice.livejournal.com]

[Saturday, June 19th (day 384)]
[Late into the night, the Whitechapel and beyond]

I'm awake.  I shouldn't be, I know, it's pretty late now and the world's asleep.  But the stars, the stars are singing, and I'm humming when I should be sleeping.  There are pictures in my head, too, to keep me awake.  I would try to shake them away, I would try to pay attention to going to sleep, to doing like I should, but I don't.  

It's a game, closing my eyes and making up all sorts of things.  Like dreaming, but not as scary because I'm in charge of what happens.  My new favorites are the ones with ships.  I've never been on a ship or seen a castle or anything like that, but there are pictures on the fronts of the books that I'm learning to read.  And oh the adventures that live inside.

My stories are never exactly like the books, though.  I don't really know what a princess is, or why she's gotta be saved all the time, and sometimes people just seem to wanna fight each other over silly things, but there are parts I like.  I take those parts and mix them up and that's where my stories come from.

Tonight, though, I can't seem to find anything I like.  I think and I think and everything just says no, that's very boring, we've heard that one before.  A world of no and I'm finally sitting up with a sigh.  Maybe that's the problem, yes.  Maybe that's what the stars are singing about, why I feel so fidgety and itchy in my skin.

Maybe the time for stories is over.

I find my shoes, because Valmont'll get sore if I'm out barefoot, and my robe, because it might be cold out, but I don't put anything on until I've tiptoed down the stairs, just as quiet as can be we are, and I'm out back.  It is chilly, so it's nice I remembered the robe.  I slip into the stables, and it's all hay smell and whatever nice things horses dream about, floating in the air.  I'm just as quiet as before, up to the room above.

It's dark, everywhere's dark, but I can see okay if I pay attention, and when I can't see so well, I feel around until I know where I am.  I don't need to see, anyway, to know Micah's there.  I can just feel him there, sleeping.  It's a nice peaceful sort of feel.  And then I crouch down beside him, hand on his shoulder.  "Micah," I whisper, starting to grin a little.  "Wanna go on an adventure?"

[Open to Tez, and later Gaueko]
[Closed and continued here.

Only one shopping day left 'til tomorrow.

[jamie-kincaid.livejournal.com]

[Saturday, June 19th (Day 384)]
[Late Morning, Saturday Market]


Molly's home today and so here I am, taking her place at the market.  I don't mind though because I wanted to get out anyway. 

I was hoping I'd see Jane yesterday but when I went by the bakery, she was out.  Finding out that I was married and then wasn't, for a second time has been one the the strangest things I've gone through in the last year.  I haven't been able to talk to Jane about it, Lily either, but Janie's the one I really wanted to see.  I'm still not sure what I'm going to say anyway.

Sales are good today though and the weather's nice, and I smile, nodding at passing shoppers.  If nothing else, today will have been good for something.


[Open to anyone at the Market]
[Closed]

Only one shopping day left 'til tomorrow.

[jamie-kincaid.livejournal.com]

[Saturday, June 19th (Day 384)]
[Late Morning, Saturday Market]


Molly's home today and so here I am, taking her place at the market.  I don't mind though because I wanted to get out anyway. 

I was hoping I'd see Jane yesterday but when I went by the bakery, she was out.  Finding out that I was married and then wasn't, for a second time has been one the the strangest things I've gone through in the last year.  I haven't been able to talk to Jane about it, Lily either, but Janie's the one I really wanted to see.  I'm still not sure what I'm going to say anyway.

Sales are good today though and the weather's nice, and I smile, nodding at passing shoppers.  If nothing else, today will have been good for something.


[Open to anyone at the Market]
[Closed]

I always say don't make plans, make options.

[iago-excolo.livejournal.com]

[Saturday, June 19th (Day 384)]
[Noon, Miskatonic Cafe]


It's been a boring, boring day. I've been idle and that's never a good thing. It's when I feel the most mischievous and most likely to follow some long-winded multi-tiered scheme to get something I want. The issue is deciding what exactly it is I want at this moment. Other than the usual and the obvious, I'm stumped.

The waitress returns with my order, flipping her blonde hair while she laughs at my witty comment. She introduces herself and I chuckle, finding it too easy to flirt with her. It's obvious that she'd follow where ever I led but this isn't the kind of entertainment I'm looking for. Besides she looks nothing like Glass. I give the blonde, Alex she called herself, a winning smile to soften the blow of my rejection.

She takes it well, leaving me with an open offer before she sashays away. I watch her hips sway briefly before turning to my food. She's still not Glass. It always comes back to her, and I consider formulating a scheme in that vein. I may as well. My thoughts drift there often enough anyway.

Speaking of, that reminds of other people as well. I still have most of Dorian's cookware at Alessandra's house. That damn bed as well. Does this count as hiding it? And does it count as hiding if no one's looking for it? I chuckle to myself, remembering times past and hidden garlic presses. I believe I actually miss all of that, and with that in mind, I decide what I want most. I want my family back and I want to go home.

Soon enough. For now though, I just have to soldier on by being my normal charming self. Yes, isn't that always the way, and I catch the waitress' attention again to order a coffee. Black, like my sense of humor, and I grin as I watch her walk away a second time.


[Open]
[Warning: Violent Imagery]
[Closed - continued here]

I always say don't make plans, make options.

[iago-excolo.livejournal.com]

[Saturday, June 19th (Day 384)]
[Noon, Miskatonic Cafe]


It's been a boring, boring day. I've been idle and that's never a good thing. It's when I feel the most mischievous and most likely to follow some long-winded multi-tiered scheme to get something I want. The issue is deciding what exactly it is I want at this moment. Other than the usual and the obvious, I'm stumped.

The waitress returns with my order, flipping her blonde hair while she laughs at my witty comment. She introduces herself and I chuckle, finding it too easy to flirt with her. It's obvious that she'd follow where ever I led but this isn't the kind of entertainment I'm looking for. Besides she looks nothing like Glass. I give the blonde, Alex she called herself, a winning smile to soften the blow of my rejection.

She takes it well, leaving me with an open offer before she sashays away. I watch her hips sway briefly before turning to my food. She's still not Glass. It always comes back to her, and I consider formulating a scheme in that vein. I may as well. My thoughts drift there often enough anyway.

Speaking of, that reminds of other people as well. I still have most of Dorian's cookware at Alessandra's house. That damn bed as well. Does this count as hiding it? And does it count as hiding if no one's looking for it? I chuckle to myself, remembering times past and hidden garlic presses. I believe I actually miss all of that, and with that in mind, I decide what I want most. I want my family back and I want to go home.

Soon enough. For now though, I just have to soldier on by being my normal charming self. Yes, isn't that always the way, and I catch the waitress' attention again to order a coffee. Black, like my sense of humor, and I grin as I watch her walk away a second time.


[Open]
[Warning: Violent Imagery]
[Closed - continued here]