For what human ill does not dawn seem to be an alleviation?

[tereixa-zann.livejournal.com]

[Early morning of Sunday, June 27 (day 392)]
[Out in the park]

I smell like beer. Which, since it's oh-god-early on a Sunday morning, sometime between breakfast and church, would be kinda embarrassing if I'd been drinking.

Yesterday was such a soup that I ended up going to bed early (well, early for a Saturday); woke up in the quiet time before dawn and lay awake for a bit watching the wall. There's a blank spot where the blueprint Kent gave me used to be, I used it in the music box, and now Genny's shades-of-grey sketch of my Carousel and the perfect crisp black-on-white Soon. from Management are flanking empty space. Can't really make them out in the dark, but I know they're there.

So I got up and went out and went for a walk,

I went to the Miskatonic because hey--jukebox, how can you go wrong with a jukebox? It helped, it really did. So I was sitting down with coffee to listen to the music when I saw Cain and someone I didn't place heading up the street and not dawdling at all, so I went out to see where they were going and, well, the Abbey is not an unfriendly place so I figured I'd stop by and ask what was going on, or more specifically what broke.

I don't have a lot of experience working with brewing equipment (and there's a faint flicker of guilt, remembering Tez), but a ball valve is a ball valve, right? And cracks and leaks are pretty much the same all over.

So we got the distillery patched up and then cleaned up, and they were nice enough to spot breakfast, and I've got that tired content feeling you get after a good long job. Nice to know I can still improvise, if I need to, even with everything that's changed--and if I can't get what needs fixing, I can still fix.

I'll head home in a bit, but right now I'm just killing a moment in the park. My stomach's full and the tea's keeping me awake and life? Life is honestly feeling pretty good right now. Light a cigarette and stretch out my feet and watch the world go by, and I'm grinning, I can feel it.

[Open]
[Closed]

Comments

[tereixa-zann.livejournal.com]

Doc's (probably, sadly) right about Danika. Feeling awful for Valmont; he's looking like he just got run over with a popcorn cart. "He's just seemed like a teenager with a terrible crush, and who would share that with people acting like parents?" and I wince in recognition, because, well, he's right. Instead of parents, you're more likely to--

Oh, worth a shot.

"Maybe he's talked to Alice about her?" I suggest. "I mean, if they're getting along and all... She might know something. About how he's taking to Danika, I mean." I don't know, but worth a shot?

"I suppose I should go home. I'll need to talk to him about this."

"Yeah," I say quietly. "I-- look-- I'm sorry, hon. Wish I could help."

[docconstantine.livejournal.com]

Well, what started as a pretty good morning took a turn for the worse. Valmont looks like, well... I know that look. Know it all too well. At least Zann has a good idea.

"Can't hurt to ask her, at any rate. Maybe it'll give you an idea of what direction you should take."

"I suppose I should go home. I'll need to talk to him about this."
"I-- look-- I'm sorry, hon. Wish I could help."

I don't really imagine there's much we can do, but...

Set my hand on Valmont's shoulder. "If you need any bad examples to illustrate to him, I'd be happy to share my experiences with... with this." It's not much, but it's all I got.

[valmont-vicomte.livejournal.com]

"Thank you," I say distractedly. "Both of you. I..." I shake my head and run my hand through my hair. "Have a pleasant day," I finish, because there is no way I can coherently complete that sentence. I walk out of the park, much on my mind.

[tereixa-zann.livejournal.com]

Sit there and watch him go, and... I'm just suddenly trying to imagine if it were Xay, and I hop down off the bench because it's suddenly too chilly to just hunch up and stay still.

"How the hell d'you do it?" I say to Lucien, lighting another cigarette and offering him one. "Give them bad news, I mean."

[docconstantine.livejournal.com]

Watch Valmont go off, and I don't envy him. Not at all.

"How the hell d'you do it?" Zann asks, coming down from her perch and offering me a cigarette. Look at her funny, until she explains. "Give them bad news, I mean."

I take the cigarette and tuck it behind my ear, then loop my arm around her shoulder.

"Gently. Don't get mad when they do, hold their hand when they cry, and do it again the next day. And you know what? Never gets easier." Sigh and kiss the top of her head.

"C'mon, I'll get us some coffee and walk you back home."