Love is in the air

[npc-excolo.livejournal.com]

Sunday, February 14th
Valentine's Day

I sit on my bed with my legs crossed, writing real careful in my notebook. MRS CLARA GRANGER I write, all tidy, then underneath I practice my signature. Clara Granger. That nice man at the market swore it wouldn't take too long for him to propose after he drank the potion. After I practice my signature a few times I write our names together. PETER AND CLARA, and I put them inside a nice big heart.

I hear Momma shouting for me and I sigh. I know she won't approve when Peter and I get together, cos he is a bunch older than me and she says seventeen is way too young to settle down. But I know she married Pop at nineteen, so she's just a hypocrite. And Peter's a real good catch - got his own job, his own place. There's that Maya of course to worry about, I think, and I push my pencil a bit too hard into the page and the point breaks. But once Peter's had the potion he won't remember that he likes her. I just need to work out how to get it to him.

Momma shouts again.

"Coming!" I shout. I know she wants me to go to that dumb Valentine's market and help her sell quilts. Ugh. But Peter might be around town, so I check my hair is nice before I go down.

***

This punch just don't look too appetising. I sigh and shout for Clara again. What is that girl doing? Probably dreaming about that barman. She thinks I don't know she's moony about him. I'm just glad he's got a sweetheart, or else he might go for my Clara - she's real pretty and men like adoring girls. He's much too old for her. I taste the punch and it's real nice, course it is, made from our fruits, but the colour just don't pop. Feeling a bit guilty, I get out some food colourant and drop it in, and it goes a nice reddish colour. That's about right for Valentine's, ain't it? I stopper up the barrel. Clara comes down.

"Get those quilts in the cart, will you?" I say, hustling her out and then getting the punch on the wagon. Roads are clear, so we get set up easy. Just a few stalls for this - jewellery, flowers, all kinds of novelties. I put out the prettiest quilts - maybe some guy'll think one'd make a nice present for his wife, and more practical than earbobs - and set up the punch.

"Free punch, sir?" I say, holding out a cup. After a bit of prodding I get Clara dishing up punch too. Hopefully it'll be a good day.

[OPEN]
[Closed]

Comments

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

We eat, an' she seems t'be thinkin'. Least she ain't d'mandin't I perform some kinda mir'cle. Had folk like'at b'fore, thinkin'at cuzzi call m'self witch means I c'n make'em fly, 'r live ferever, r make bullets bounce off ovvem. Don't work like'at. I eat m'sandwich 'n wait for'er t'ask whatever she's thinkin'.

Fin'lly she says, "It's not just Karina, and we aren't sure it was the Tower, but it hurt her once before so why not again? And there were the memories that Maryk lost and then got back just as suddenly."

Dunno who those folk are, but'm assumin't's th'lady't couldn't sleep 'n tall dark 'n grim. "Th'mem'ry thin', if'n't's th'same't happened t'ev'rybody, didn't have nothin' t'do wit' th'tower. 'at wuz somethin' else entire, an'm workin' onnat one." Ain't havin' much success, mind, but'm still bloody workin' onnit.

"Um... if you can't give me anything for protection could you maybe give us something else? Something maybe to help us hide from it? Unless the problem is that nothing you can do will affect it or what it can do..."

"Well, 'at is 'bout th'size ovvit," I says, lookin' atter. "I tangled wit' th'psycho monster b'fore, an'e laid me out flat. Power'e's got s'way b'yond me, way b'yond jes' 'bout anythin' innis town." I look at'er 'n shake m'head. "Look, I don't blame ya fer bein' scared. Bloody thin's a nightmare. An'I c'n load y'up wit' protections if'n'at's whatcha want, jes' can't guarantee't any ovvem'll be any use. Best bet, t'my mind, s't'jes' get outta town, if'n ye're'at scared ovvim. Count yerself's bloody lucky y'got'at option." I snort, takin' a bite outta m'sandwich.

[leah-pontarlier.livejournal.com]

Syl tells me that the memory things was something else and that she's working on it. I bite my lip there are too many questions I want to ask about that, If it wasn't the tower who or what was it? and what is she planning on doing? didn't everyone get their memories back already?

Then she moves on to what she can or can't do for us. Well, 'at is 'bout th'size ovvit, I tangled wit' th'psycho monster b'fore, an'e laid me out flat. Power'e's got s'way b'yond me, way b'yond jes' 'bout anythin' innis town. And I feel odd like I want to cry but at the same time I don't want her to see me do it. I didn't like how it felt when my attacker hit me and I managed to get away before he could really do anything too bad.

I blink the rising tears away and pay more attention to her words as she shakes her head, Look, I don't blame ya fer bein' scared. Bloody thin's a nightmare. An'I c'n load y'up wit' protections if'n'at's whatcha want, jes' can't guarantee't any ovvem'll be any use. Best bet, t'my mind, s't'jes' get outta town, if'n ye're'at scared ovvim. Count yerself's bloody lucky y'got'at option.

"Oh." I think about the two options presented. Paying for protections that will probably do nothing to help or leaving before I've finished my mission to find out everything that's going on in town. Maryk would probably be happy to leave if Karina and I would come with him. I doubt that Karina will want to leave as that would mean that they probably would not let her be mayor.

"I don't think either of those options would work for us. If you say the protections aren't likely to work at all then why have them? And I don't think we're going to leave town much as it might be the better solution." i manage a bit of a smile for her because even though she;s telling me bad things it is better to know than be ignorant. "Thank you for explaining things to me, Syl."

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

Girl's eyes jes' 'bout well up. Oh, hell, hope she don't start bawlin'. Got 'nough waifs'n strays'a m'own wit'out adoptin'. Least she thinks 'bout what I tell'er. "I don't think either of those options would work for us. If you say the protections aren't likely to work at all then why have them? And I don't think we're going to leave town much as it might be the better solution." s'what she fin'lly says. "Thank you for explaining things to me, Syl."

Well, prob'ly th'first time I been thanked fer givin' somebody bad news. She's a polite li'l thin', no mistake. "Welcome." I says. "'d help ya if'n I could, honey, an'I really wish I could," more cuzzit'd mean't 'd have some kind d'fense 'gainst th'psycho monster'n cuzzi could help'er an'er kin, but I wish't jes' th'same. M'glass's empty, an'I signal th'barman. Order two whiskies; girl looks like she could use a stiff one. "This one's on me, since y'bought lunch," I says t'er azze brings'em over.

[leah-pontarlier.livejournal.com]

Syl says she'd help if she could and wishes she could help. I manage to find a bit of smile for her, I wish she could have helped us but since she can't and I'm pretty sure we aren't going to take her other advice I'm not sure what the next thing to do is. I'm still trying to think of something to do when the barman comes over with two drinks. This one's on me, since y'bought lunch,

I blush a little as the drink is placed in front of me. " I- you- Thank you." I take a sip and realize whatever it is, it tastes horrible! I swallow the stuff in my mouth and it feels like it is burning and ripping up my throat. Water comes rushing out of my eyes and I cough. this is worse than accidentally getting some of Maryk's smoke breathed in.

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

She blushes again when th'drinks come. " I- you- Thank you." an'en takes a quick sip'a th'drink. Hard t'keep m'self from smilin' when she starts chokin'. 'er eyes're streamin' an'er face goes bright red.

"Y'ain't never had whisky b'fore, have ya?" I says, watchin's she shakes'er head. "Okay, here's whatcha do. Take a sip, jes' a small sip, mind, but don't swallow't right away. Swirl't round yer mouth, all over yer tongue, let't warm up a bit. Give th'flavour a chance t'come out. Goes down easier'at way." Take a sip'a m'own t'show. Christ, Verdi's a fuckin' artist. "Jes' take't slow. S'an acquired taste, this stuff, but once y'got th'taste ye'll never lose't."

[leah-pontarlier.livejournal.com]

Y'ain't never had whisky b'fore, have ya? So that's what this is called? Why would people drink this stuff? I manage to shake my head at her.

Okay, here's whatcha do. Take a sip, jes' a small sip, mind, but don't swallow't right away. Swirl't round yer mouth, all over yer tongue, let't warm up a bit. Give th'flavour a chance t'come out. Goes down easier'at way.

I watch carefully as she shows me how it's done. After wiping the water from my face, I give it a very cautious try. With a very small amount. As I swirl it around I think I can taste something other than burning but at least this time I do not feel as if I am trying to swallow fire.

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

She copies me, real careful, an'I nod. "There y'go. Y'can't drink'is stuff fast; try, an' ye'll burn yer tongue right out. S'a slow sorta drink, whisky'is fine. Jes' take't one sip atta time. Soon ye'll start pickin' out more'a th'flavours." Take a sip'a m'own, close m'eyes 's th'warmth crawls 'cross m'tongue. "Takes a bitta time t'teach yer tongue th'trick ovvit."

[leah-pontarlier.livejournal.com]

Syl nods and I feel happy that I have managed at least this much correctly. There y'go. Y'can't drink'is stuff fast; try, an' ye'll burn yer tongue right out. S'a slow sorta drink, whisky'is fine. Jes' take't one sip atta time. Soon ye'll start pickin' out more'a th'flavours. Takes a bitta time t'teach yer tongue th'trick ovvit. She closes her eyes as she takes a sip and looks almost peaceful as she enjoys the taste of the drink. So I take another tiny sip and yes I can indeed taste more and different things than the last time!

We sit and sip our drinks. There is nothing else really to talk about and I find I like siting here with Syl, watching her and the room and drinking this strange and complex drink.