(no subject)
There's a tree out back, behind the lake, behind everything which is covered with some odd slashes, which sharp eyes might see as being made by broken glass.
Like a comet pulled from orbit as it passes a sun...
Val was there, curled up in a ball. She avoided the greenhouse. She couldn't even look at it. Of all people. It shouldn't have been Meg. There was so much she'd done, so much she'd been to so many people.
So much of me is made of what I learned from you you'll be with me like a handprint on my heart
Val pulled the blanket closer around her, remembering her first few nights in the bar.
(Valentine's a nice name - isn't that a saint?)
I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason bringing something we must learn and we are led to those who help us most to grow if we let them
She shakes a bit. Meg. Marguirite-but-if-you-call-me-that-you-die Giry. The dancer. The life of the bar. Sister. Skywalker. Friend. There are no words, nothing can be said. Val bites her lip, mind wandering around in seven places. Everything that happened, everything Meg had been there for. Tackling her when she tried to run off, telling her exactly what she thought.
(People are far more bloody likely to fall without you than with you - merde, Val, you have responsibilities, you can't just run off. I don't care how bloody bad things are, that's taking the easy way out)
And just to clear the air I ask forgiveness for the things I've done you blame me for
There's nothing she can say, nothing that she can write, just sit there by a tree. By the tree where months ago, Meg found her, cutting her hands to pieces with bottles.
Who can say if I have been changed for the better, but because I knew you I have been changed for good
"I love you, Meg. Always did. Always will. My sister." And then, only then does she break, all of the emotional walls falling down, as she cries. She cries for the ballerina, for the girl, for the woman who knew and understood quite a lot more than most of the 'verse, and herself gave herself credit for. The life of the bar, a large portion of Val's life and heart. Meg.
I do believe I have been changed for the better
It's a long moment before she moves. The morning sun is peeking over the horizon, and she's still there. Broken, but knowing she has to get up and move on. That's the way of the 'verse.
[ooc: Whitetext from the song "For Good from the musical Wicked]
Like a comet pulled from orbit as it passes a sun...
Val was there, curled up in a ball. She avoided the greenhouse. She couldn't even look at it. Of all people. It shouldn't have been Meg. There was so much she'd done, so much she'd been to so many people.
So much of me is made of what I learned from you you'll be with me like a handprint on my heart
Val pulled the blanket closer around her, remembering her first few nights in the bar.
(Valentine's a nice name - isn't that a saint?)
I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason bringing something we must learn and we are led to those who help us most to grow if we let them
She shakes a bit. Meg. Marguirite-but-if-you-call-me-that-you-die Giry. The dancer. The life of the bar. Sister. Skywalker. Friend. There are no words, nothing can be said. Val bites her lip, mind wandering around in seven places. Everything that happened, everything Meg had been there for. Tackling her when she tried to run off, telling her exactly what she thought.
(People are far more bloody likely to fall without you than with you - merde, Val, you have responsibilities, you can't just run off. I don't care how bloody bad things are, that's taking the easy way out)
And just to clear the air I ask forgiveness for the things I've done you blame me for
There's nothing she can say, nothing that she can write, just sit there by a tree. By the tree where months ago, Meg found her, cutting her hands to pieces with bottles.
Who can say if I have been changed for the better, but because I knew you I have been changed for good
"I love you, Meg. Always did. Always will. My sister." And then, only then does she break, all of the emotional walls falling down, as she cries. She cries for the ballerina, for the girl, for the woman who knew and understood quite a lot more than most of the 'verse, and herself gave herself credit for. The life of the bar, a large portion of Val's life and heart. Meg.
I do believe I have been changed for the better
It's a long moment before she moves. The morning sun is peeking over the horizon, and she's still there. Broken, but knowing she has to get up and move on. That's the way of the 'verse.
[ooc: Whitetext from the song "For Good from the musical Wicked]